


darling don't let go

by loverave (snitchpuff), thistidalwave



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snitchpuff/pseuds/loverave, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Harry is caught snogging a bloke by the paps - and he can't just sweep this one under the rug. At least he gets to pick who does the interview when he officially comes out, though. Nick Grimshaw is the ideal candidate... and as the interview progresses and sparks start to fly, Harry thinks Nick might just be good for something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	darling don't let go

**Author's Note:**

> we refuse to apologize for the campiness of the summary. and of the whole thing. whoops.
> 
> this fic has been a long time in the making--it was born on Feb 26, 2014, so we're sending it out one year later. bye, baby. we hope the world treats you right. 
> 
> our undying thanks goes out to our (ten person strong!!) crew of cheerleaders and beta readers. we couldn't have done it without you. special thanks to blamefincham and magog83 for their help in giving the plot the total overhaul it needed halfway through (even if we did mourn the bits left on the cutting room floor), and to our lovely final beta, fiarra, and britpicker, cheaprhyme. 
> 
> there's also a mix for this fic [here](http://8tracks.com/snitchpuff/darling-don-t-let-go).

**_PRINCE CAUGHT DRUNKENLY KISSING A MAN?!?_**  
February 2014

LONDON — The cheeky Prince Harry of Wales was caught drunkenly stumbling out of a pub in the early morning in Soho. An unidentified bloke helped Prince Harry make their way to the waiting car. Before getting into the town car, Prince Harry, 19, kissed the unidentified man. This was no simple peck. But was it just a drunken snog—or more?

 

 

_Heat_ is open on the desk next to Matt’s computer, the headline in bold red print next to a paparazzi shot of Prince Harry looking worse for wear. Nick cringes, and Matt notices him looking at the magazine.

“I was maybe gonna ask a Showquizness question about that,” he says. “Cool?”

Nick shrugs. “Cool. Just don’t go on about it.” He’s not massively comfortable with the topic, but it would be unlike Showbot to not make at least one wry comment on it, and he trusts his team to not be arses about it. He remembers what it was like to out himself, and he wasn't the bloody prince. He’s not sure how the prince identifies, but Nick has heard the rumours. He doesn’t want to think about what kind of shit storm Prince Harry will wake up to. 

When Fiona arrives, she delights in reading the article aloud to the team with a dramatic flair. There are more headlines to read because the newspapers revel in royal scandal. Fiona thinks _The Sun_ did a particularly good job, while Matt prefers _The Daily Mail_ ’s unique brand of fail. Nick, as ever, appreciates _Sugarscape_ the most, and Ian sides with him when he gets in, so they obviously win.

In the studio, it's purely good natured. Everyone on the team is amused by the prince. He's cheeky and clever and has a habit of falling out of pubs drunk. He’s a normal boy—not unlike those they all went to uni with. He just also happens to be third in succession to the British throne. Nick’s always liked him, and though a few of his friends have met him more than once, Nick has never had the pleasure. He did meet Princess Anne though, Harry’s mother and heiress to the throne, and had a right laugh with her.

Matt stays behind his computer, messing about with the Showquizness questions, Nick thinks. He gets distracted, though, when Alexa comes in. He gets up to greet her, wrapping her up in a hug. She peers at him tiredly and pats him on the back. It always takes her a bit to wake up.

They have a good chat with Alexa, and she agrees to stay for Showquizness. They’ve got a nice caller by the name of Sophie who keeps getting the questions wrong, and Nick can’t stop laughing at Alexa’s concerned expression every time Showbot asks a new question. 

After Showbot regales them with her latest venture into the world of modelling, of all things, complete with the sound of camera shutters incessantly playing, Matt catches Nick’s eye and tilts his head questioningly. Nick nods, and Matt taps the screen. “Who did the best interpretation of the classic ‘stumble out of a club and snog a bloke’ gimmick? A) Nick Grimshaw, B) James Corden, C) Alexa Chung, D) Prince Harry, E) Sir Elton John, F) Ke$ha.”

“Hey!” Alexa protests. “I did no such thing.”

“Nah, I think you have,” Nick says. On the other end of the line, Sophie is laughing so hard it sounds like she can’t breathe, and Nick is honestly a little concerned for her health.

“Well _you_ definitely have.”

Nick shrugs. "I always want to kiss a person when I'm drunk. It doesn’t matter what gender," Nick says matter of factly. 

“We know, Grim.” Alexa laughs, loud and brash. Nick personally thinks she’s been staying in America too long. 

“But who did it best?” Nick asks. “That’s the question here. Sophie, who do you think?”

“No offence to you and Alexa, but I think I’ve gotta say Prince Harry,” Sophie says. She’s still giggling every so often, like she can’t help herself. 

“I think Sophie has a crush on Prince Harry,” Ian jumps in. “Are you alright, Sophie?” 

“She’s not the only one,” Fiona says, and that sets everyone laughing. 

“Oooh, Fifi!” Nick says. Matt is the first to recover from laughing and has to make angry faces at Nick until he gets a grip. “Okay, so Sophie’s saying D, Prince Harry. What do we want to say, Alexa? I’m thinking Ke$ha. Love her.”

Alexa nods. “Sure, Ke$ha.”

“The answer is either A or C,” Showbot says. 

“Heeeey,” Nick complains.

“Is that us? Both of us?” Alexa asks.

“A, Nick Grimshaw, and C, Alexa Chung, yes,” Nick says.

Sophie huffs. “I still think it’s Harry.”

“I always accept D,” Showbot says.

“Oh, look at that,” Nick says. “She always accepts D, great.”

There is a beat and then Alexa and Sophie both start giggling, almost at the same time. “Oh my God,” Alexa chokes out. 

“Have you ever got to see Prince Harry in person, Sophie?” Nick finds himself asking to try and get the conversation back on track and not in shambles. 

“Nooo,” she answers. “Have you?”

“I haven’t. But I met Princess Anne a few weeks ago. We had a few laughs, we did. I think she liked me,” Nick rambles.

“Probably not,” Ian says. 

“Oh! I have,” Alexa chimes in. “I was asked to a garden party last year with the Queen and he was there with his sister. He was lovely!”

“Tell us more, Chung,” Nick says. 

“Yes, come on then, I want to hear more about this,” Fiona says. 

“He’s just super charming and down to earth? Like, I know that’s what everyone says, but he was really nice and charming! Princess Gemma is gorgeous, and she was so nice as well. I didn’t get a lot of time with either of them, though, really. Everyone wanted a piece of them,” Alexa tells them. 

“I like Gemma,” Ian says.

“Shut up, Ian,” Nick says. “You don’t get a vote anymore, you said Princess Anne doesn’t like me.”

“Please can you shut up Grimy and play a record.”

“You haven’t told us the winner yet, Showbot. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Nick replies. 

“The winner is the caller on the phone.”

Sophie cheers, and Nick tells her they will hear from her tomorrow. He speeds them along into the next record. 

When Nick steps out of the studio to drink his coffee, Alexa steps out with him. “I don’t envy the prince today,” she tells him. 

“No, neither do I,” Nick says, taking a sip of his coffee. Nick hopes wherever the prince is, it’s not as awful as it could be.

-

At that exact moment, Prince Harry of Wales [see above] is being stared at by his press secretary while he lies in bed. Well. By one of his best mates, Niall, who moonlights as his press secretary. It’s not his favourite way to wake up, really. He has a splitting headache, his mouth is dry, he wants to heave, and Niall’s blank stare is scaring him. He knows he must have done something shit, probably in public, to be getting this response, but he can’t exactly remember what. 

“Did you have a nice night with Charlie, then?” Niall asks, and Harry winces. Charlie is not Niall’s favorite person. Charlie is quite low on the list of people Niall likes. And Niall likes everyone. 

Harry remembers going out to the bar last night with Charlie and his mates. Charlie is Harry’s newest conquest. Well, friend, if Harry was using the language he wants to use. Friend he likes to snog. Charlie is well fit.

“Yes?” Harry says as if a question. He thinks whatever Niall is mad at him for might have happened while out with Charlie and those lads. It probably didn’t help their case, whatever it was.

Niall doesn’t even answer; instead, he throws a copy of _The Sun_ onto his lap. Harry gulps. There on the front page, albeit blurrily, is Harry kissing Charlie. It’s clearly a proper snog, not a friendly peck. He must have been proper drunk to not remember he was in public. “Oh,” he says.

“ _Oh_ , he says,” shouts Niall. It hurts Harry’s head. “Oh!”

“Well. Um. That’s unfortunate,” Harry tries. He doesn’t know what Niall wants from him. He didn’t think he was that drunk. 

“Yes, Harry. It is unfortunate,” Niall says while rubbing his eyes. It doesn’t look like it’s been his day. It’s probably not going to be Harry’s either.

“Um. Can’t we just say no comment?” Harry asks. 

Niall sighs loudly and aborts the motion of throwing his hands up. “No, Harry, we cannot just say no comment. The people are wanting to know, and this is pretty damning. This can’t be written off as an “oops” and hope the public will forget. They will not.”

“But. I. Mean. It was an oopsie?” Harry says as he starts pulling on his fringe. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s known he’s liked boys as well as girls for awhile. He doesn’t like labels, and being in the public eye the way that he is, he just thought that he could not say anything until there was something to say. 

“Not one you can get rid of,” Niall says. He looks at Harry and sighs, his expression softening. “Look, we just need to decide what you want to do. I think you should say something positive, you know? Be a role model? I know how you hate that, but in this case…” He trails off, looking at Harry expectantly.

Niall always knows how to get Harry. He _does_ hate having to be the perfect role model, because he’s only human, and maybe he wasn’t ready to define or share this part of himself, but he can imagine how much he might help someone truly struggling with themselves. It’s out there now, after all. It would hurt more to take that back and play it for laughs.

Harry sighs. “You’re right. There are people who could really benefit from this.” He tugs at his fringe again. He sometimes really hates being royal, even if he genuinely does love helping people. “What do I need to do?”

“To clarify,” Niall says, “you want to come out?”

Harry takes a deep breath and nods.

Something like pride flickers across Niall’s face. “Cool, then we’ll need to arrange an interview and all you have to do is show up and be interviewed. We’ll have a press release as well, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Can I pick who does the interview?” Harry asks.

“If you’d like to?” Niall says. It’s not unusual for the royal family choose who they speak to, but Harry’s never really shown a preference for one interviewer over another. This time, though, Harry has an idea of who he wants to handle it. 

Nick Grimshaw came out a few years earlier, and Harry really respects the way he did it. It was no pomp, no circumstance, no really out there statement. He just confirmed it as part of an interview. Harry wishes he didn’t have circumstance, but here it is.

“Nick Grimshaw? Either as part of his radio show or however you want to do it.”

“You want it to be live? We can do a pre-recorded bit,” Niall suggests. 

“I mean, I don’t mind being in the studio… But pre-recorded is probably best. Right?” Harry asks. “I mean, I feel like Mum and Granny will want to know… what’s going to be said?” 

Niall nods. “Probably, yes. Pre-recorded, then. We could probably let them video it for their website. We could set up the interview in either Buckingham Palace or Clarence House.”

Harry nods. “Whatever you think is best. I just think Grimmy will handle it how I want to see it handled.”

“Of course,” Niall says. “No problem, Harry. Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Harry says. “Seriously.”

Niall laughs. “Where would you be without me?”

“Sleeping, probably,” Harry jokes. 

Niall rolls his eyes. “Go on, get out of here.”

“Isn’t this my room?” Harry says with a laugh. Niall rolls his eyes and gives a short, ironic bow before leaving the room with a wave. 

-

Nick stares at his phone, flabbergasted. Did that conversation just happen? Was he really going to interview Prince Harry?

Ian looks up from his computer and stares at him. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks. 

“Matt just phoned,” Nick says, “We’re going to be interviewing Prince Harry at Clarence House in two days time.”

“ _What_?” Ian exclaims loudly. People turn and stare. “How are we going to do that in two days time?”

“Well, you know Finchy, he’ll figure it out,” Nick says. 

“I guess so,” Ian says. “Wow. The prince. The actual… prince.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess they’re making a comment after all,” Ian says.

“Did you think they wouldn’t?” Nick says. “Those pictures were pretty explicit.”

“I mean. Harry’s done some interesting things in the past… ” Ian trails off. 

“But never so damning as this,” Nick tries to explain. “It’s more like… he has two choices. To play this off as a drunken thing between friends, like ‘look at me I’m so progressive’ or he could come out. He has to say something. He doesn’t have a choice. We may not crucify him on the show, but you know there are other news sources that would if he didn’t make a comment.” 

Ian nods. “Thought about Harry a lot, have you?” 

Nick rolls his eyes. “It’s important. To me and the nation. And the world, come to think of it.”

“I know, Grimmy,” Ian says sincerely. “I think it’s great.”

Nick sighs. “As you should. Hey, do you think we could get him to record a clip for the waking up song? We probably shouldn’t play a silly game…”

“We could maybe play a silly game,” Ian says. “Take a little of the focus off the serious while still keeping it serious. We’ll have a meeting about it, I’m sure.”

“Oooh, that’ll be exciting, won’t it,” Nick says, making his voice squeaky. 

“Shut up,” Ian says. “We’ve got work to do, come on.”

Nick rolls his eyes and tries to toss a pen at Ian so that it’ll land in his hair. He’s wildly unsuccessful, but Ian throws it back at him and the fight that ensues is legendary, so. 

-

Harry cannot remember ever being this nervous for an interview before. He can remember his first interview with Anne when he was sixteen and Gemma came of age, but he doesn't remember being this nervous. He can't sit still, and he wants to throw up, and why did he agree to this again?

He knows why he did, of course; there was a whole long drawn out conversation about it with his mum, Robin, and Granny. They know his reasons and he’s ready, he thinks, for the backlash. At least, with them at his side he will be. 

He watches from a corner out of the way as Niall directs the people the BBC have sent over to set up for the interview. It is taking place in one of the unofficial but public rooms of Clarence House, his mother’s residence. Harry officially still resides there, but he’s usually found one in his mates’ flats. He does have a small flat of his own, but he’s hardly ever there, and he doesn’t want the media to know the location. It’s better that this is in official capacity. 

“Are you going to help?” Niall calls from where he’s clutching his clipboard. “Or are you just going to be in the way?” He didn’t stop talking for Harry to answer him. “I knew I should have made Tommo or Payno come and distract you.”

“Well, Louis’ up in Doncaster training, and who knows where Liam is. I’m supposed to be safe when I’m with you and in ‘residence’,“ Harry says. “But I’ll get out of your hair. I just wanted to see what was going on.”

“Don’t go too far. The interview is going to start in an hour,” Niall says.

“I won’t,” Harry promises. 

When he goes through to the entrance hall, Harry sees a group of people clustered together whispering. He doesn't know why they’re whispering, as they are the only people in the room other than a butler. Perhaps they don’t want him overhearing? Harry doesn’t know, and he doesn’t think much about it.

He almost gets through the room before the butler sees him and bows slightly. “Your Highness.” Harry nods back and suppresses the internal eye roll. He hates pomp and circumstance, though he understands the tradition in it. 

The group has broken up to stare, and Harry spots Nick. It’s easy to recognize Nick Grimshaw, as Harry has seen many a programme that he presented and he’s in the tabloids sometimes with his famous friends. He might as well introduce himself, he thinks.

“Hullo, I’m Harry,” he says to them all as he approaches to shake their hands. The butler looks a bit disapproving, but he works with the family and is used to their “modern” ways. 

The group is made up of Nick and two of his producers, Matt Fincham and Fiona Hanlon. They’ve brought a BBC cameraman with them, but he stays in the background fixing the equipment and no one moves to introduce him. Harry is more interested in meeting Nick, if he’s honest… Matt and Fiona excuse themselves to go check on the set up process, leaving Nick and Harry alone. 

“I watched you all the time when I was younger,” Harry blurts out as the silence gets kind of awkward. 

“Ah, well. Then you’ve seen my hair at its worst,” Nick jokes easily. He’s more attractive up close, Harry thinks.

“I don’t think it was too bad,” Harry says. 

“The blonde was pretty bad,” Nick says, grinning. 

Harry shrugs. “I thought it was quite cute.”

The silence grows as they stare at each other.

“Are you ready for this?” Nick asks finally, and from anyone else, Harry would probably have bristled. This is Nick. though—someone he’s looked up to for most of his life, and someone who came out the same way Harry wishes he could have: quiet and understated.

“Not really,” Harry answers honestly. “Wish I got to do it a bit more like you.” 

“Me?” Nick asks. “I didn’t do anything special. I barely had to.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Nick shrugs. “You’re a bit more important than me, mate.” 

Harry is so thankful he doesn’t seem to realise how casual the conversation is. Some interviewers would have done an impression of the speak no evil monkey emoji if they realized they called Harry mate. Harry likes that Nick doesn’t seem to notice, that he acts like they are friends. 

Harry shrugs back. “Not really. My gran, maybe, and my mum. Maybe even Gemma. I’m the spare, though.” He winks badly at the last part, and it gets the laugh from Nick he wanted.

“Do you mind if we talk about that?” Nick asks, “I wanted to include more than just. Well. Your announcement.”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t mind at all.”

Before Nick can answer, Niall sticks his head out and says, “They’re ready for you.”

-

Since Harry said he doesn’t have a problem with Nick asking about the line of succession, Nick opens with that after introducing him. “Do you have a problem with your sister taking the throne? If you were born one generation before, you would have got the crown.”

Harry laughs easily, and Nick wonders at how open it is. “No,” he says, “I’m kind of glad not to have the responsibility of it? I mean. I never thought of myself having the crown, so. It’s never been a problem. Gemma would be the better ruler anyway.”

“Aw, that’s nice that you think that,” Nick says. “What qualities does Gemma have that make her a better ruler than you?” 

“Uhhhh, she’s really clever?” Harry says. 

“Well done, Harold,” Nick says with a laugh. 

“Well, she is!” Harry exclaims. “She graduated [from] university and everything!”

Nick keeps laughing. “That she did,” he says. “How is your university life going? Are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah, I really like it,” Harry says, brightening. “I’ve got loads of friends and my lectures are at least a bit interesting sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry shrugs, grinning. “Yeah.” 

“Have you ever fallen asleep in a lecture? I always found that I’d be in a lecture and I’d be looking at the professor and he’d be saying something about, I dunno, statistics or summat, and all of a sudden it would be the end and my friend would be waking me up and telling me we had to go.” 

Harry laughs along with Nick. “I can’t say,” he says. “They’d know.”

“They probably already know,” Nick says, chuckling. “They were there. Do your friends at university treat you different because your mum is going to be the queen one day?”

Harry shrugs. “If they do, they aren’t really my friends, y’know? My real friends don’t care.”

“So they don’t mind the cameras following you around?”

Harry shakes his head. “It can be annoying sometimes.” He stops for a moment, and Nick worries he won’t continue. “Like… when we’re trying to just go out and have a drink like normal students do. We try to forget that there are cameras, mostly. Sometimes that works too well.” He gives a self-deprecating smirk.

Nick nods. He catches Finchy’s eye behind Harry and gets raised eyebrows and a hand gesture that clearly means he’s supposed to get to the point. He elects to ignore it, mostly, not wanting to be too pointed. “Do you tend to change when there are cameras around?”

“Like, act differently?” Harry asks slowly. Nick nods. “I try not to, but there’s sort of, like, an image I’m supposed to have. A respectable one. I, um, I like being respectable, but I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to try to be. So the media kind of latches on to everything I do that isn’t perfect, and sort of… blows it out of proportion.”

“A double-edged sword,” Nick agrees. “We want to know everything about you, but when it’s something we don’t like, we have to tell the world about it and cut you down in the process.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, “I try to be open with my life, but, uh, there are some parts I try to keep private? Um, maybe, one day I may be ready to introduce a man or a woman to Britain… but, like, I don’t want to do that until I’m sure I’m going to be with them, y’know? It’s not fair to, uh, the nation or the person? It’s kinda, um… kinda like introducing a child to a boyfriend or girlfriend, I suppose, before you're sure you’re going to actually be in it for, like, the long run.”

“Well, hopefully you’ve not been dating anyone with a child, Prince Harry. You’re rather young to be becoming a stepdad.” 

Harry laughs, the pressure in his chest he hadn’t quite realised was there dissipating. “No, I haven’t been dating anyone at all, let alone a, um, someone with a child.”

“Good to know,” Nick says, and there’s a small part of his brain that thinks maybe that _is_ something good to know. He shuffles his papers and tries to find a question that he likes.

Nick asks Harry about the rest of the mandatory questions that people always want answering when a royal is interviewed. It’s comfortable and interesting. By the end of it, Nick truly enjoys Harry’s company and really hopes that the interview will do him more good than harm. 

As they’re wrapping up and the equipment is being packed up, Harry hangs around chatting some more with Nick. He tells Nick, “I had hoped you ‘d have some, um, Twitter questions. Those always sound fun.”

Fiona jumps in as she is clicking away at the computer. “Well, we haven’t exactly shared that we had an interview with you. Your press secretary didn’t want us to, though I think some people might notice people coming in and out of the house like this.”

“Oh,” Harry says with a pout.

Nick doesn’t know whether or not he can offer for Harry to come into the studio if he wanted, but he raises an eyebrow at Matt, who gracefully steps in and asks, “If you want to come in on the day we air this, you can. It is very early though.”

Harry grins. “Let me check with Niall, but if I can, yes please! You always play such fun games.”

“You mean Nick finds a way to embarrass us all,” Matt mutters, but he pokes Nick in the side goodnaturedly. Nick knows Matt enjoys him whether he wants to admit it or not. 

“That’s all you,” Nick says. “I just show up. But yeah, Harry, come along if you can.” 

“I will do. Thanks for doing the interview. I really… appreciated it. Really.”

“It was my pleasure,” Nick says. “In case I didn’t make that clear enough in our goodbye at the end of it.”

Matt pushes Nick out the door with a polite goodbye, and Nick thinks it’s probably for the best. He didn’t really want to leave. He doesn’t want to explore that, so he lets it go and goes to bother Fifi.

-

Matt and Niall listen to it back the next few days and go through and edit some clips. Nick isn’t a part of the group who gets to do that. He does get an email in his inbox the next day saying they’ll be airing it in a week’s time. He keeps that information to himself and doesn’t share it with his friends, even Collette. It’s something special, he thinks, and it’s not his story to tell. 

The week passes rather quickly, but it’s only when Nick is in the cab on the way to work the morning of that he remembers that Harry never got back to them about whether he was coming or not. At least, he hadn’t that Nick had been informed about. 

He asks Matt when he gets in, and Matt shrugs. “Haven’t heard anything,” he says, and Nick assumes that means Harry’s not going to come in. He’s kind of disappointed, not that he would tell anyone that, because hey—he interviewed Prince Harry. He was _requested_ to interview Prince Harry. He can lord that over whoever he wants until he is an old, withered man.

It comes as a surprise to everyone involved when they get a call from reception around seven-thirty telling them that Prince Harry is on his way up to the studio. “He’s apparently got food,” Matt says when he hangs up the phone. Nick and Fiona just stare at him.

Harry does, indeed, have food. Breakfast sandwiches for all of them, to be specific, and he hands them over just outside the studio with a bright grin on his face. Nick thinks that he’s _much_ too awake for this time of the morning, and it’s Nick’s job to be cheery in the morning, so that’s saying something. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” Harry says. 

“It’s great to see you,” Nick agrees. “Thanks for this.” He lifts the bag to indicate it. “And thanks for coming! Wow. You’re early, we won’t be playing the interview out for a bit, but we could have a chat after, maybe?”

“Sure. Actually, er, could I play Showquizness?” Harry asks. “I love Showbot.”

Nick laughs more out of shock than anything. “Er, yeah, I’m sure Showbot loves you, too. Well, I mean, you never know with her. You’re sure you want to stay that long? You don’t have somewhere else you need to be?”

Harry shakes his head, looking very amused. “Nope, I’m all yours.”

“Ah,” Nick says, and thankfully Finchy sticks his head out of the studio to inform Nick that he’s on soon so Nick doesn’t have to think very hard about it. 

When Nick enters the studio, Harry follows him in. Nick didn’t expect that. Nick doesn’t know what he did expect, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t Harry making himself at home in the corner on the sofa. It doesn’t matter really, the cameras aren’t on today, so there is no worry about people seeing him before they announce it, but well. Nick still expected him to have better things to do. 

There is a man looming outside near Amy’s desk and oh, right, Harry would have a bodyguard or two. Because he’s the bloody prince. Nick may or may not be having a minor breakdown. 

The breakdown is interrupted by Finchy trying very hard to get his attention and point out the time. Tina has about 30 seconds left and then it’s Nick’s turn. He presses the button for his intro music to start when the first paper ball hits. When he looks up, Harry is looking at him like the cat that got the cream. 

He thinks he keeps it together pretty well, considering the fact that Harry keeps throwing paper balls at him, and his producers seem to be content to just watch him do it. He reminds the nation that they’ve got an interview with Prince Harry coming up as if they’re not all texting and tweeting in about it already before putting on a record. 

“Finchy,” Nick whines, “Prince Harry’s throwing things at meeeeee!” 

Matt rolls his eyes. “Then tell him to stop, Nicholas. You’re not three.”

“Stop, Harry,” Nick says with a frown.

Harry pouts. “Well, if you want me to…”

“He’s only joking.” Fiona tells Harry. “Keep doing it.”

“I am not,” Nick says indignantly. “I’ve a very important job to be doing. Only broadcasting to the nation and that.”

Harry doesn’t get a chance to respond as Matt again motions for Nick to do his actual job. Damn this prince and the distraction he brings. They manage pretty well through the waking up song and another record, Harry still occasionally throwing balls at him or messing with his mic. Nick finally gives in to instinct and tries to distract Harry, he introduces him. “Good morning, nation! If you were unaware on this lovely Tuesday morning, we have a treat for you. Prince Harry has graced us with an interview and his presence.”

Nick manages to catch Harry by surprise, though he was by the mics, which is why he thought it was a good idea. Matt may kill him after this. There are a few seconds of dead air before the prince’s usual “Hiiiii.”

“Are we excited to see the prince?” Nick asks the studio.

Matt and Fiona cheer, but it’s half hearted at best, as it’s still early and they aren’t really paying attention. Nick bursts into laughter. 

 

“Well, that was a bit of a let down.” Harry says with an exaggerated pout.

“Ah, no, we’re excited to have you, honest,” Matt says. “Right, Fiona?”

“Mhm,” Fiona hums. “Very excited.”

“So enthused, Fifi,” Nick says, laughing. “People on the text are excited,” he points out. He starts reading out texts, deliberately picking ones he thinks will make Harry laugh, which they usually do.

Matt keeps pointing at his watch after a few minutes, and oh, right, a record, the reason most people listen to the show. “Now, don’t worry, nation, the prince isn’t going anywhere yet. But here is Flaws from Bastille.” 

The opening chords echo in the studio as Flaws starts. There are a few records together, enough time for him to drink his coffee and contemplate eating. “I’m going to drink my coffee,” Nick tells Matt and grabs it from the corner, booking it to the airlock so he can drink it. He gets why there is the rule about not eating and drinking in the studio, but it ruins his coffee habit. He’s not surprised to have Harry right behind him, though, nursing his own cup.

“Having fun?” Nick asks.

Harry grins at him. “Loads,” he says. “You said the interview was airing after eight?”

Nick nods. “Yeah, right after the news. Most people listening then, see.”

Harry bites at his lip and takes a sip of his coffee. “Great,” he says eventually. 

“Sorry,” Nick says, wincing. He probably didn’t need to say that. “It’s all gonna be fine, though.” He feels as though he needs to be comforting, having somewhat been in Harry’s position before, but he also knows from that same experience that there isn’t really anything he can say. He doesn’t _know_ that it’s going to be fine, though ultimately he thinks it will be. “Just keep the ever wise Dr Seuss in mind.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at him. “Dr Seuss?”

“‘Those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind’,” Nick quotes. “That’s what my sister told me when I, y’know, was having a crisis or whatever.” He waves a hand dismissively. 

Harry nods, looking especially thoughtful. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You say that a lot,” Nick says. “I’m not doing anything. Ready to go back in? One more link before the news again, I think, if we ramble for a bit.”

“Okay,” Harry says in his slow way. Nick shouldn’t find it adorable. 

Nick tries to clear his head as he fades the microphones up. “That was Demons by Imagine Dragons. Before that Lily Allen with Air Balloon. Gotta love that Lily Allen.”

“I’ve met her before,” Harry says but doesn’t continue.

“Well, are you going to tell us, Harold?” Nick asks.

“Um. Well. Granny was hosting a Thing. Well. A function? A thing for young entertainers last year. Ellie Goulding was there—I love her music—and so was Lily. I wasn’t there in any sort of official capacity or, uh, whatever. I mean, I was, because, you know, royal family and that, but like, since Granny was there she was the attention? I just, er, got to meet people. Anyway. Um. Lily was really nice? I mean. She was nice to me, but kind of brash and loud and. I really like people like that? It’s nice when people, um, seem to forget that you’re royal. Because, like, Granny has done so much work over her reign, and like, my mum and Gemma both do a lot of work too, I just think. We’re normal people? Who have a responsibility to represent the nation, but like… We’re normal.” Harry is a bit breathless when he finishes, and Nick is a bit stunned. Harry’s story is a bit hard to follow and if he was always on the radio, he would be a really awful DJ. But Nick gets what Harry is saying and hopes the rest of the nation did too.

“She is a bit brash, that one,” Nick agrees. “Lily’s one of my good friends, but she can be a right meanie when she wants to be.”

“Isn’t she who you dressed up as once?” Fiona asks with a smirk.

“Nope, not bringing up that story,” Nick says.

“Oh, no, I think you should,” Harry says. 

“It’s not so much of a story as a picture, or well, a gif if you would,” Matt says as he’s focused on the computer. He’s no doubt looking for it, the traitor.

Nick tries to change the subject and seems to succeed. But a few minutes later, after they introduce the next record, Matt is pointing something out to Harry on his computer. When Nick goes round, it’s thankfully not the video, but it _is_ the gif set. He lets out a long sigh. “I’m never going to get away from that, am I?” 

“Nope,” Fiona and Matt cheerfully chime at once. He hates his team some days.

“It’s a good look!” Harry laughs.

“No, it wasn’t. But thanks.” Nick says. He eyes the length of the song. They’ve got another minute, but he goes to his side of the table anyway, ready to turn up his mic to introduce Tina. He introduces her and tells the nation the interview with Prince Harry will be playing next.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks Harry once Tina has started talking. “Or do you want to stay here and listen?”

Harry looks torn, but he shakes his head. “I want to listen,” he says. “May as well know exactly how it sounds.”

Nick nods. “Okay. Want to sit down? You should sit, maybe over there?” He gestures at the sofa in the corner. “I’ll come and sit with you once I’ve introduced the interview. If you want.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. Nick watches him go sit and take out his phone. He’ll have to be sure Harry doesn’t do something stupid with that when he goes over there. 

Nick and Tina have a little exchange before he introduces the interview, but he isn’t really paying attention. His eyes are trained on Harry, who is still fiddling with his mobile. Tina doesn’t pick him up on it though, and she urges him instead to introduce the interview because she’s excited to hear it. “Well, without further ado, here is what happened when I got to sit down with Prince Harry,” Nick says and presses the button into it. They’ve clipped it up a bit, but he has enough time to go sit next to Harry. 

“It’s going to be alright, y’know,” Nick tells him seriously, even though he may be talking out of his arse.

“I know. I know. Just have a habit of looking for trouble,” Harry says carefully, turning his mobile over and over in his hands. Nick reaches out and stills him. If it was a close friend like Collette or Pixie, he would outright steal the mobile and put in his pocket. But as it is, he keeps his hand on top of Harry’s hand. 

They listen to the first part of the interview, and when Harry hears himself come out he tenses and stops breathing. Nick squeezes his hand, and Harry puts his mobile under his leg. Nick draws away, but Harry catches his hand and intertwines their fingers. He seems to need the comfort, and Nick remembers how scary it is to come out to the nation. This is a much bigger deal than it had ever been for Nick, but it's the same emotion. 

Nick is spaced out and just sitting with Harry, but Fiona seems to notice and switches to a new song straight out of the clip. Harry breathes out loudly. "Well. Now they know. "

"See. It wasn't too bad, was it?" Nick asks, trying to radiate confidence. 

"I—I guess," Harry says weakly. “Hasn’t really started yet, though. They only just know.” He pauses, breathing in shakily, and his hand tightens around Nick’s. “I’m not going to be able to go outside for awhile without seeing it, am I?”

Nick winces. “Probably not,” he says gently. “But it will all blow over eventually. They can’t go on about it forever. Some people will, but they’ll be pushed aside.” 

“This fucking sucks,” Harry says. “Sorry,” he adds quickly, and Nick can’t do anything but shake his head and hold onto Harry. 

They sit in silence, hands locked together, until Ian comes over and apologetically tells Nick he has to link together the song and the second half of the interview. Nick hadn’t even noticed when Ian arrived, so distracting Harry was. “Be right back,” Nick tells Harry, who nods and reluctantly lets his hand go.

Thankfully the computer tells him what’s just played, because he definitely wasn’t paying attention. He reads it off, trying for enthusiasm, but, well. Failing. “But now back to what happened when we had a chat with Prince Harry,” Nick says. 

When he looks back up, Harry is playing with his mobile again. Nick doesn’t think that is a good thing and gets up to tell him so. When he sits down, though, Harry looks up at him with a small smile. “My mum and Gemma both texted to say they’re proud of me and Granny is too. Granny won’t text, she doesn’t like it.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself. You’re doing a good thing. There’ll be so many teenagers who can’t believe they have the Prince to look up to. That the prince is like them. I mean. If I had someone like you to look up to when I was younger, maybe I wouldn’t have had to try to be straight for a while,” Nick tells him. He’s being sincere and earnest, and it’s so, so strange. But he wants Harry to remember why he did this, for whom it was if it wasn’t for himself. 

“That’s really sweet,” Harry says. “That’s… yeah. That’s the whole point, right?”

Nick nods. “Right.”

Harry sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Nick knows the feeling, and he wishes there was something he could do. Harry will just have to work through it. Although Nick’s generally not overly touchy feely with people he doesn’t know well, he wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders. When Harry sighs as if in relief and snuggles closer, Nick knows he did the right thing.

“Prince Harry?” Ian asks, still hesitant, as he was the only member of the team who didn’t meet him the first day. “Can we have a photo of the two of you together for our twitter?”

“Oh, yes! Though I, uh, did want to do the Instagrim booth,” Harry says with a small grin. 

“Well, we can still do that afterwards,” Nick tells him and starts to pull away so Ian can take the picture.

“No, no, stay here. It’ll look better,” Harry says and. Well. If that’s what Harry wants, that’ll be what Harry gets. He didn’t want to put anything out in the universe that looked too... Well, familiar. But Harry’s right, and the picture looks good. It makes them look like mates. 

Nick would fancy them being mates, he thinks. They get along already, and, well. Harry asked for him specifically to come out to, and then, when he could be hiding in one of the palaces, is instead here in the studio with Nick and his team. So. Maybe they are mates after all. 

-

Harry invites the whole team out to lunch after the show finishes, but Ian has to stay late to work and both Matt and Fi beg off for some reason. Harry doesn’t know why. He hopes he hasn’t upset them. He had a lot of fun with Showquizness and the team in general. The whole coming out bit sucked quite a lot, but he’s glad he went to the studio instead of sitting at home. Niall might have come and sat with him, but he would have really been unhappy to have to be up before nine in the morning.

Harry, along with his ever present guard, follows Nick to his desk, but that kind of causes a scene. Harry shakes a lot of hands and endures a lot of bowing and curtsies before Matt hands Nick some papers and says to get out of the office before everyone has to come and greet Harry. Nick nods and their little group leaves Broadcasting House by the back door. Harry feels bad for missing the crowd, but he can’t handle it today. 

They go on to lunch in a little café that’s tucked away in a corner. It never gets busy, although the food is great. Nick asks questions as if he’s not read all about Harry’s life and his mum’s divorce and recent elopement. He wants to know all the little details—sometimes details Harry’s told interviewers, but often details people don’t usually care to ask after. Nick treats Harry like a normal person, and Harry couldn’t be more grateful. 

Nick has to go back to the BBC after lunch to work on stuff, so Harry heads back to his flat. Niall’s waiting for him when he gets home, but Harry waves him off and goes to work on a reading for one of his lectures. He’s calm enough to focus on his work and not what the world thinks, and he thinks he has Nick to thank. 

-

Just as Nick is getting home to walk Puppy, he gets a text from an unknown number over WhatsApp.

_Hey, this is hazza_. Nick frowns. He doesn’t remember giving Harry his number. He assumes it’s Prince Harry, anyway. None of his friends would call themselves ‘Hazza’.

_Hey. How’d you get my number?_

_Pulled some strings? Is that ok?_

_Yeah, just wondering…_

_lol sorry._

_no, it’s fine. what’s up?_

_not a whole lot. niall is briefing me on something. idk_

_shouldn’t you be paying more attention, your royal highness? lol_

_he’s told me it once and will say it again. just meeting a foreign dignitary_

_oh nbd then_

_well they’re not really here for me. they’re just here for my granny. i’m extra_

_i still think it’s weird you call the queen granny_

_i mean, she’s my granny_

_no, i know. it’s just weird._

_would it make it weirder that one day my mum is gonna be queen?_

_uh. duh. yes._

_oops. well, she is._

_thanks for that._

_and one day my sis is gonna be queen._

_you’re just having fun at this point aren’t you_

_yeah. probably._

It’s not the last text conversation they have. In fact, it’s weeks until he sees the prince in person again, but they keep up a fairly steady commentary about mostly banal things in their lives. Nick likes the person he’s texting; Harry’s wit and silliness makes him smile. Nick hopes that he’s at least helpful for taking Harry’s mind off things, if nothing else. 

Nick finds himself flirting more and more with Harry. It isn't so hard. Harry is going to university and sometimes shows up out of the blue at the BBC and at Nick's flat. Nick doesn’t mind. He likes Harry’s wit and stupid jokes. Like most of the world, Nick finds Harry attractive. If this was just one of his mates, Nick would go for it; at least have a romp, no strings attached. But. This is Harry. Harry, who has become a close friend of Nick’s, who loves his family and his friends… but who is also a prince. 

Nick would love to have a fairy tale romance, but he’s not crazy enough to believe that he would get one if he was with Harry. Harry’s only just come out. Sure, it’s been a few months, but the poor boy hasn’t been out of the papers since. 

\- 

Prince Harry of Wales is lying on Nick’s sofa like it’s no big deal, legs clad in skinny jeans stretched out so his socked feet are propped up on the arm of the sofa. His head is smushed into a throw pillow, and he’s fiddling with his mobile, looking tired. He looks up and smiles when Nick walks into the room, and Nick wants to kiss him so badly it stops him in his tracks.

He shakes it off and goes to sit next to Harry. “Budge up,” he says, and Harry retracts his legs so that Nick can sit. “You good?”

Harry nods. “Just tired. I’ve got a lot of studying to do.”

“And yet you’re here,” Nick says, raising his eyebrows. 

Harry shrugs. “Better than the alternative.”

“What’s that?” 

“Well, I s’pose there are two,” Harry says. “Sit in a big empty house alone with only my books to keep me company or let myself be distracted by my wild party friends.”

Nick purses his lips. “I’m not a wild party friend? I could be a wild party friend.”

Harry laughs. “No, you couldn’t. Or… well, you wouldn’t. Not when you know I don’t want you to.”

“Mmm,” Nick hums in agreement. “I’m versatile like that.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Versatile, hmm?” There’s a moment of silence before Harry starts laughing. It would be awkward, but he’s so much more relaxed than he was when he showed up on Nick’s doorstep, so Nick can’t complain.

Nick finds himself laughing along even though Harry didn’t really manage to make that anything but awkward. “Good job, your majesty!”

Harry blanches and Nick internally cringes. He’s not seen that face often, but he can already tell he hates it. “Sorry,” he says automatically.

Harry shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says. Harry sighs quietly, and Nick thinks they’ll leave it there and Nick will silently try to remember to never say Harry’s title in that context again, but then Harry starts talking. “It’s just— Sometimes— I wish… Being royal seems to be everyone’s dream, but sometimes it just _sucks_.”

“Sorry,” Nick says again, at a loss for anything else to say. He’s really not sure why Harry is telling him this. It’s probably supposed to be one of those deep bonding moments that Nick is always so horrible at. “I kind of understand. Well, I mean. I don’t understand at all. But I’m in the tabloids too sometimes, and so are my friends, and that usually sucks, so it’s clearly even worse for you. It’s not like it affects my day-to-day life the way it does yours.” 

“At least you get part of it,” Harry says. “My mates think it’s well cool, and they don’t seem to hear me when I tell them all the ways it’s not.”

“It’s hard sometimes to see what’s going on if you don’t have something to base it on,” Nick says. He thinks at that moment about how his mum and dad are about the fame thing and about the radio. They don’t understand pop culture, but they try to support him. They just don’t get his life sometimes. Nick doesn’t get it either, to be fair.

“Yeah, I know.” Harry sighs and presses a pillow to his face. “It’s been worse lately.”

“Sorry.” Nick says again. He’s starting to feel like a broken record. “Welcome to being out of the closet?” He poses it like a question and a bit sarcastic, because he knows. The journalists may not be awful to him in the press, but the paparazzi are not always as nice. 

Harry nods and presses his face into the pillow. "What a lovely coming out party," he says sarcastically. 

Nick nods back silently. They truly could just communicate in nods now. There really isn't anything to say. "Do you need to study? You could do that and I could make us something for tea?"

Harry yawns. "I'd rather nap, but I suppose I should revise some." He pulls his rucksack closer and takes out a textbook. Nick takes that as his cue to leave. 

Nick's not great at cooking but he can order takeaway alright. He would try to make something usually, but well, he doesn't think Harry would appreciate having to rush in and save him when he should be revising. 

It doesn't take long to place an order, and Nick pours them both a glass of wine. He lets Puppy in from the garden and she yips as he searches for where he put her food last. It has a place in a cupboard near her bowl, but he never remembers to put it back. He finds it shoved on top of the fridge where he keeps the crisps. He’s glad he didn’t try to eat it. 

Nick stews in the kitchen and sips at his wine, trying to give Harry space. He’s bad at being in the same room and not talking. Like epically bad at it. He feels awkward standing in his own kitchen hiding out, though, so he goes back into the living room. He leaves the wine on the coffee table, and Harry smiles up at him with thanks.

Nick goes to peruse his small collection of books and picks one out, settling on the opposite end of the sofa. It’s Alexa’s book and it’s mostly pictures, but it’ll entertain him for a time. 

He’s managed to idly flip through a quarter of the book before Harry pokes him in the thigh with his foot. Nick looks up, amused. Harry is sitting with his back to the arm of the sofa, knees up in front of him with his textbook resting on his legs. “What?” Nick asks.

“Are you busy this weekend? Like, say, Saturday night?” 

Nick frowns, thinking. “Um, not that I can think of. Why?” 

“A couple of my mates and I were planning to go out to a club. I was wondering if you, um, wanted to come with us?” 

“Sure,” Nick says, trying very hard not to overthink the concept of going out with Prince Harry and his friends. “Why not?”

Harry’s grin alone is worth it. “Great,” he says, looking down at his book and then back up at Nick almost shyly. Nick smiles back in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. 

He’s saved from trying to figure out what, if anything, he should say next when there’s a knock at the door. “That’ll be food,” Nick says, getting to his feet quickly.

“I thought you were making something?” Harry raises his eyebrows teasingly.

“Shut up,” Nick says, smacking Harry upside the head as he walks past. Harry’s giggles follow Nick all the way down the hallway, and Nick opens the door with a helpless grin on his face. 

The takeaway guy stares at him like he’s crazy, and Nick supposes he must look it, but you know what, screw it. His life has been pretty awesome as of late.

-

Harry stares at his wardrobe nervously. He doesn’t know what to wear, and he doesn’t know why he’s making a big deal about it. It’s only Funky Buddha, the club Liam owns a share in, not even a fancy one. It’s not like he’s going on a _date_. It’s not. It’s not official, anyway. But the burning in his gut says otherwise, and the three boys sniggering at him from the bed are not helpful.

“Are you going to help?!” he asks plaintively. Liam, Louis, and Zayn just laugh at him, shoulders pressing together as they fall into a heap on the bed. His mates are the worst. A person wouldn’t think two of them have some of the bluest blood in the UK (though that’s not why he hangs out with them). “I hate you all.”

“No, you don’t,” Zayn says. 

“I do,” Harry insists. Louis and Liam are still laughing. “I don’t know why we’re friends.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Just like, wear what you always wear, yeah? You don’t need to, like, impress him. He likes you already, doesn’t he?”

“He liiiiiikes you,” Louis crows, setting himself and Liam off in another round of laughter. 

Harry scowls. “Useless,” he mutters, but he does put on his regular black skinny jeans and a t-shirt before staring at himself in the mirror. He feels like he’s missing something, but he has no idea what.

He feels someone come up behind him and when he turns around, it’s Zayn handing him a few longer necklaces. One of them he wears often, it’s from Gemma, but the selection looks good together. “Wear this. It’ll look good.” Zayn says. 

“Thanks.” Harry says. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like it’s a date or anything.”

Zayn looks at him studiously, and Harry knows he’s in trouble. Zayn is the one friend Harry has a hard time lying to; they’ve been friends since birth and are technically cousins a few degrees apart. “But you’d like it to be?”

Harry hums and looks anywhere but Zayn. It isn’t until Zayn hits him gently with his shoulder that he sighs and says, “Yeah. Kind of.”

“Only kind of?” Zayn asks.

“I… don’t know if I’m ready to go on a proper date in, like, public like this? Like, I feel like the person would have to be pretty damn committed to me before I could subject them to the craziness that is my life.”

Zayn nods. “I get that, but you text him all the time and you get this look on your face. I want you to be happy, Haz, and you look like you are when you’re with him.” 

Harry shrugs. “Yeah. Hopefully…” He trails off, unsure where he was going with that thought. “Hopefully it works out. Something does, Anyway.”

Zayn doesn’t laugh at him, but Harry feels like it’s probably a close thing. “Ready to go then?” Harry nods, and Zayn turns away. “Lads! We’re going!”

“ _Finally_ ,” Louis says, jumping to his feet and scurrying out of the room, Liam on his heels.

Zayn shakes his head. “You’d think they hadn’t just been completely content to lie there and laugh their little heads off.”

“Yeah,” Harry says fondly. “You’d think so.”

-

Nick might be proper stropping it. He’s also wishing he hadn’t asked Aimee to come pick up Puppy. This may have been a bad idea. “It’s not a bad idea. Stop it, Grim,” Aimee says as if she can read his mind. He’s not entirely sure she can’t.

“But they’re all so much younger than me,” Nick says despondently. Harry, of course, had mentioned many of his friends as the weeks of texting passed, but the four friends (and Niall, whom Nick isn’t scared of) coming to the club are what one could call Harry’s clique. They’re often mentioned with Harry in the news—well, at least two of them are. 

Zayn seems to be the closest to Harry if the amount of news articles about the two are true. Zayn is a cousin twice or something removed, a minor royal in his own right. He and Harry were grew up together and their friendship has spanned articles. Louis Tomlinson is the grandson of the Duke and Duchess of Kent and has just started playing football for the club in Doncaster. Nick found Liam’s name listed in connection with a few gyms; as far as he can tell, Liam is a trainer of some kind. However, he’s often around Harry and away from gyms. Niall, although he’d been introduced to Nick as Harry’s press secretary, is just one of the lads and one of Harry’s best friends. 

Nick’s not nervous. Not at all. 

He kind of wishes he had invited Aimee or Gells, but Harry hadn’t offered, and well. There was a part of Nick that wanted to protect Harry from the public, even if that meant his own friends. Gells and Aimee hadn’t said anything bad about Harry, but they still didn’t know him. Nick wasn’t pretending to _know_ him know him, but he would like to think they’re friends.

“Get out of your head, Grim,” Aimee tells him. “It’s going to be fine. Find some trousers. Do your hair. It’s going to be alright.”

Nick sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m proper calm.”

Aimee throws her head back and laughs. Nick wishes he didn’t agree with her. He can pretend not to though, and he rolls his eyes as he looks for the jeans he wants. They’re on the floor, but when he smells them, they don’t smell bad. They’ve got a hole in the knee, but that’s never stopped him before. 

“Good, as you should be,” Aimee says. “Now, I want you home before midnight, young man.” She manages to get the whole sentence out before she bursts into laughter again. She’s the absolute worst. 

Nick picks a random shirt up off the floor and throws it in Aimee’s face. “I’ll be home never,” he informs her, tucking his wallet and phone into the pockets of his jeans and swanning off to the bathroom to inspect his hair. The quiff seems to still be faring well, but Nick adds hairspray for good measure. “Don’t wait up for me!” he yells at Aimee from the entryway, double checking that he has his Oyster card.

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Aimee yells back, and Nick takes a deep breath before leaving the flat.

Step one complete, Nick thinks as he pulls the door shut behind him. Now all he has to do is make it through the rest of the night. 

-

Harry had offered to get his car service to pick Nick up, but Nick had declined, insisting that the tube was easier. Harry hadn’t wanted to push too hard, but Nick’s stubbornness has the unfortunate side effect of leaving Harry with no clue when Nick is going to show up beyond a text from earlier saying he was getting ready. Harry is starting to get antsy.

“He’ll be here soon enough, mate!” Liam assures him, handing him a pint. “Loosen up!” 

“You said this wasn’t a date,” Louis says with a shit eating grin, “So why are you so worried?”

Harry sighs. “What if he doesn’t turn up?”

“Then you’re stuck with your favourite people for the rest of the night,” Niall says easily. “It’s not like it’s a hardship, Haz.”

Niall raises his pint in a cheer and the rest of the boys follow suit. “To lads!” They echo him and take sips of their pints. Harry sips at it slowly, not wanting to get too drunk before Nick even arrives. He wants to welcome Nick, not scare him off. His friends can get to be a bit… much.

Harry knows Niall’s right. He does love hanging out with his boys, but he had really wanted Nick to come and meet them. All the time they’ve spent texting and the couple of times they’ve hung out have been just them, and, well. It’s easy to get lost in his crush when he’s alone with Nick. He wants his friends to meet and to like Nick too. 

“It’ll be okay, Haz,” Liam says as he leans against Harry companionably. “He’ll show up.” Sometimes Liam is the absolute best. 

And sometimes Liam is the absolute worst. Harry isn't sure how much time has passed, but Nick still hasn't shown up. Liam's given him a shot or two try and help his nerves. Harry would be mad at him, but even his drunken mind knows Liam isn't the one behind it. Liam is still the worst. 

Harry's about to work himself to a full-on strop when his phone finally buzzes. _Sorry took a taxi_. It's Nick. He's here! Harry tries to worm his way out of VIP without the boys seeing, but Liam had been standing with his arm around Harry, and he won't let go. 

"Where are you going?" he shouts over the noise. 

"Nick’s here!" Harry shouts back, expecting Liam to stay up in VIP, but Liam’s keeping up his absolute worst streak and won't let Harry shake him off. 

"I'm going with you since Paul isn't here," Liam says and latches on to Harry's wrist. Harry heaves a sigh and starts trying to make his way through the crowd. 

It takes longer than Harry wants to get anywhere near the entrance, and when he finally does, it’s to find Nick chatting to the bouncer.

“Is this guy giving you trouble?” Harry asks Nick, using his best royalty voice and fixing the bouncer with a look. 

“No,” the bouncer says before Nick can. “I was telling him it might be best to wait for you rather than try to find you, but I wasn’t gonna protest if he wanted to go in. You’ve got him on the list.”

Harry blinks. “Right,” he says. Behind him, Liam is sniggering.

“Cheers, mate,” Nick says to the bouncer, edging past him. “Hiya, Harry.”

Nick is suddenly very close to Harry. Harry hadn’t been expecting that to happen quite so soon. “Hi,” he says, throat dry. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Of course,” Nick says.

Liam pushes his way in front of Harry. “I’m Liam,” he says, sticking out a hand for Nick to shake and then pulling him in for a bro hug when he does. Nick’s eyes are widened in shock over Liam’s shoulder, and Harry laughs at him. “Harry’s been talking about you loads,” Liam says upon releasing Nick.

“Hey,” Harry protests. 

“He talks about you, too,” Nick says, ignoring Harry. “And his other friends, I’m excited to meet them.”

“Right this way,” Liam says. “I know Louis has been especially impatient to meet you.”

Harry follows closely behind Nick as they make their way back to the VIP section. “Don’t take anything Louis says to you seriously, I’m telling you this now,” he murmurs to the back of Nick’s neck. Nick nods his understanding

Thankfully they run into Niall and Zayn first. Louis is behind them, but he has his back turned talking to someone Harry can’t see. He hopes it takes Louis a moment to notice them, because Nick looks, to put it lightly, a bit intimidated. Niall, however, clasps Nick’s hand and gives him a hug. “I liked the cut of the interview, mate. Cheers. Thanks for making my job easier.”

Talking shop seems to calm Nick and he says easily, “No problem. My producer was in charge of it, but I liked how it turned out too.”

Niall nods. “Well, give him my thanks.” Harry has a moment to feel guilty, but Liam gives him a squeeze from behind and the moment passes. Niall continues, “This bloody gorgeous one is Zayn. Zayn, Nick Grimshaw.”

Harry thinks introductions should be his job, but Nick and Zayn are shaking hands and making small talk. Harry isn’t paying much attention, because Louis has just noticed them.

“So, you must be Nick,” Louis says, completely interrupting whatever Nick and Zayn were on about. He’s easily heard over the din, and Harry cringes slightly at the slope of his eyebrows.

“That I am,” Nick says back, chin tilting up. Harry doesn’t think he means to, but it mirrors Louis’ attitude. 

Louis' face abruptly breaks out into a smile and he's dragging Nick in for a hug. Nick looks vaguely shell-shocked, but his guard is well and truly broken. He lifts his arms to pat Louis awkwardly on the back. “Thanks for being a good friend to our Harry, yeah?” Louis says. Harry rolls his eyes.

“Of course,” Nick says, like a foregone conclusion. 

“Do you want a drink?” Harry asks Nick. It had only just occurred to him. “I’ll go get you one.”

“Erm,” Nick says, but Harry is already moving away. Nick looks from Harry to his friends and back to Harry, and then hurries after him, nearly clocking a blonde girl in the head for his trouble. 

“I’ll come with you,” Nick says, almost directly in Harry’s ear as they both lean up against the bar. Harry shivers but tries to shake it off. They’re not alone for long; a bartender magically appears like they always do. Nick orders a vodka tonic and Harry follows suit.

“You could have stayed there, I would have brought it to you,” Harry chides Nick, but he can feel himself grinning. He’s pleased that Nick followed him.

“As much as I’m sure your friends are lovely, I came for you, Haz,” Nick says, eyes serious even as he’s grinning. Harry can’t help but wonder if Nick had started in on some liquid courage at home, but Harry still smiles and punches Nick lightly in the arm.

“Thank you,” Harry says, “for coming and for putting up with me.” 

“Not a problem,” Nick says, and then rethinks. “Usually. Right now, no. I reserve the right to change my mind at a later date.”

Harry laughs, loud and bright. “Okay.”

The bartender brings them their drinks, and Harry shoulders Nick out of the way so he can pay for both. Nick watches him fondly as he takes a sip of his drink. 

When Harry turns around and sees Nick watching him, he wonders if he could keep him. Maybe that’s too much, but at least at that moment, he doesn’t want to share. He crowds into Nick’s space and Nick lets him, his arm sliding around Harry’s waist. “Wanna dance?”

Nick nods, his throat dry. He takes a sip of his drink to try and alleviate it. “I’m not good at it though. I’ve got two left feet,” Nick says.

“So do I,” Harry responds. 

They don’t leave VIP, but they also don’t make it back towards the booth that Harry had claimed. There are enough people in the VIP section that a dance floor has started up organically. The bassline is loud enough that it’s easy enough to follow along. They face each other, hips swaying, and it’s awkward for a millisecond before Nick starts pulling silly moves and making “suave” faces. Harry follows his lead. They crack each other up and end up all over each other as they laugh. It’s hard to maintain any sort of distance surrounded by so many people on the dance floor, and it devolves into arms around waists and chins on shoulders. 

Soon they’re pressed against each other, swaying to the beat. Harry stares, wide-eyed, at Nick, and Nick’s gaze doesn’t stray from Harry’s face. Harry wonders if Nick is going to kiss him, now or ever. He would like that a lot. Right now would be good. Later would be acceptable. He wonders if he’s being too obvious.

Nick taps at Harry’s nose. “Earth to Hazza.”

“Hm?”

“Where did you go?”

“What do you mean?”

“You disappeared on me,” Nick says with a small grin. 

“I’m right here,” Harry says. He smiles helplessly and hides it in the dip of Nick’s collarbone. Nick’s skin is warm against Harry’s forehead where he’s pressing it to Nick’s shoulder. Harry pulls back before he does something inadvisable, but his limbs are still touching Nick and Nick is still touching him, and their faces are a lot closer like this. This probably wasn’t the best course of action, actually. Should have kept his head down, aren’t people always telling him that? Fuck.

The curve of Nick’s mouth is sinful. Harry’s misplaced his mind, so moving in closer seems like the obvious thing to do. Nick lets him, and Harry’s heart is beating double time when his lips press to Nick’s cheek. Oh. Had that been there?

“Do you want to take this back to mine?” Nick asks. Harry can feel Nick’s breath against his ear.

Harry swallows and nods.

It takes them some wrangling before they can leave. They make their way over to the group, connected by the hands. The boys are all wearing shit eating grins that makes Harry think they saw them. He doesn’t care really, just hopes no one else got a photo. “We’re heading back to Nick’s,” he tells them.

The boys nod, and Niall already has his phone out texting Harry’s driver and bodyguard. “The car should be there when you get there, and Alfred isn’t far behind.”

“Thanks, Niall,” Harry says through a frown. “You’re not meant to be working!”

“Nah, I’m not, but it’s easiest ‘cause I have them on message, innit?”

Harry would stay and grumble more, but Nick is pulling him away from the boys with a grin and a wave. “Let’s get to mine, hm?”

“Eager, are we?” Harry asks wickedly.

“I’m just feeling tired,” Nick says easily.

Harry punches him lightly and whines petulantly. “No, you’re not!”

“No punches, Harry!” Nick says, grabbing Harry’s hand and holding it. Harry busies himself with pouting, pleased with this outcome. 

Nick drops his hand before they exit as there are photographers lining the walk. Thankfully, the car is, as promised, waiting for them, and Harry guides Nick over to it and opens the door for him. They wait in the car for Alfred, and Nick gives the driver his address and starts chatting with him. Harry loves how Nick can’t help but befriend everyone he speaks to, especially since it means he’s distracted enough to not care that Harry is doing his best koala impression against Nick’s side. 

Harry doesn’t fully register the whole travel time bit, as concentrated as he is on trying to touch as much of Nick as possible without actually sitting on him. 

“We’re here,” Nick says. “Time to stop with the octopus.”

Harry stops with the octopus, but only because it means they can get out of the car and into Nick’s flat faster. Nick closes the door behind them and starts toeing off his shoes nervously. “Do you want anything?” Nick asks, telegraphing his awkwardness loud and clear.

_This will not do_ , Harry thinks. “Just you,” he says. 

Nick’s breath catches in his throat and he coughs in surprise. “Um, that could be arranged.”

“Could it?” Harry asks, taking a step toward Nick. 

Nick mirrors Harry’s movement and tucks a hand against the curve of Harry’s hip. “I’ll have to cancel some prior engagements, but I can’t see that…” Harry backs Nick up against the door and Nick loses his train of thought for a moment. “…being a problem.”

Harry leans in close, their bodies situated almost exactly how they were at the club. “Can I get a rough estimate on the timeline for that?” 

“Well—” Nick starts, but if he had a snappy reply for that, it’s lost when Harry kisses him. It’s not important, anyway. Surely nothing is more important than their lips against each other’s. Harry thinks he would gladly stand here for the rest of his life if it meant he could keep kissing Nick. 

“Bed,” Nick finally finishes a few minutes and kisses later. “I think we should go to bed.”

“I think I like that idea,” Harry says. “Lead the way?”

“Always,” Nick says quietly and leans in for another kiss. 

-

They do eventually make it to the bedroom, and once they’re there, they have a hard time leaving it. Harry’s phone must be somewhere, but it’s not in Nick’s room, and he’s sure there is still a protection guard somewhere. Nick’s phone is on the bedside table, buzzing occasionally, but Nick is doing a good job of ignoring it. Harry lets him; he doesn’t want to move.

Harry supposes they should talk about what they’re doing and what it means for them, but he doesn’t really want to. He’s afraid that if either of them mention it, the spell of the moment will be shattered, and Harry is oh so enjoying every moment and all the in-betweens. 

They’re in the kitchen, having decided they need sustenance. It’s just after noon and the sun is shining in the window, illuminating half of Nick’s face where he stands over the counter, putting together a sandwich out of things he found in his fridge. Harry, sitting on the counter in just his underwear and banging his feet rhythmically against the lower cupboards, thinks Nick is beautiful.

“I don’t know how good this is gonna be,” Nick says, topping the sandwich off and cutting it neatly down the middle. “You want the first bite?” He picks up half and holds it up to Harry, who leans in to take a bite instead of just taking it from Nick. 

“Mmmm,” Harry hums, mouth full. He swallows and adds, “Wonderful. My compliments to the chef.”

“Damn right,” Nick says, grinning, and then Harry can’t help but kiss him. The sandwich is abandoned for a good hour before anyone thinks to rescue it.

-

Nick’s alarm goes off at an ungodly hour on Monday. He still doesn’t know why he agreed to the breakfast show; no one should be getting up in the middle of the night. 

He loves his job, though, so he drags himself out of bed and into the shower, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Harry. When he gets out of the shower he finds an empty space in the bed where Harry should be and frowns, hurriedly pulling on his clothes and going out to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Harry says, turning around from the counter. “I made you coffee.”

Nick blinks, first at Harry and then at the travel mug in Harry’s hand. “Oh,” he says, taking the mug. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Harry says. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers and a cheeky grin on his face, and God, Nick wishes he could stay home and take Harry back to bed yet again. He’s suddenly struck with how much he wants this to be his normal, and it’s scary that he’s not sure if Harry feels the same way. They really need to talk this out. His mobile buzzes from where he’d shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, and when he looks at it its the cab driver letting him know he’s waiting. Back to reality.

“I’ve gotta run,” Nick says. “Work, you know. I think we need to talk about this, though.”

Harry nods. “Have you got time for lunch later?”

“I’ll try to squeeze you in,” Nick says. “You just going to hang out here til I get home?”

“Yeah, may as well,” Harry says.

Nick smiles. “Okay. See you.” He leans in for a goodbye kiss, keeping it short and sweet because he knows if he doesn’t he’ll never be on time for work.

“Have a nice day, honey!” Harry yells just before Nick closes the door behind him. Nick can’t help but laugh and hum a little to himself as he gets into the cab. It might be too bloody early, but Nick’s cheery mood is one hundred and ten percent real.

-

Harry has just managed to fall back to sleep when his phone rings. He lets it go; it isn’t one of his programed ringtones. They can leave a message. It silences for thirty seconds before it starts ringing again. It’s flashing restricted where the number should be, and Harry knows it’s from the palace. It’s not one of the personal mobile numbers though, so he doesn’t know who it’d be.

“Yes,” he answers. He fidgets and chews on his cuticle. Unexpected phone calls from the palace are never a good sign.

“Your Highness, you are requested to come in to St. James,” a stern voice that Harry can’t place tells him. 

“Who is this?” Harry asks as politely as he can, even though he’s kind of bricking it. 

“Lady Vivian, Your Highness. I am a part of your mother’s press office. I have been newly assigned to you, and my team and I request your presence as soon as possible, if you please.” She doesn’t sound any nicer the longer Harry listens to her.

“I have plans for today,” he stammers out. “Can we—”

“As soon as possible, Prince Harry,” Lady Vivian cuts him off. “It is of utmost importance. We are sending a car to your location. Be ready when it gets there.”

For all that Harry has been taught duty and responsibility, it has been a long time, if ever, since someone ordered him around like this lady is doing. “Fine,” he says, slightly petulant. 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she says blandly, “We will see you soon.” 

When she rings off, Harry stares at the phone for a few moments trying to figure out what just happened. There is a knock on the door, and Harry opens it to find Liam leaning against the doorframe. “Did you know who she was?” Harry asks Liam, because although he might not have been in the flat with him, if someone managed to call Harry, Liam typically knows about it.

“She’s a lady who works for your mum, I think. I’ve heard the name before,” Liam says casually, before schooling his face into a blank expression. Harry hates that he’s sometimes good at his job. “You’d better get ready, Harry. Doesn’t seem that we should keep her waiting.”

Harry sighs. “Well, you’re bloody useless. I’ll go get my clothes, then.” He closes the door in Liam’s face because he’s a child, then opens it back up, apologises, and runs off to Nick’s room to see if he can actually _find_ his clothes. 

He finds his jeans, but his shirt isn’t anywhere in immediate sight, so he steals one of Nick’s from his closet instead. He pauses on his way out, considering leaving a note for Nick, but he decides not to. With any luck, this meeting will be over before noon, and if not, Harry can text Nick to tell him where he is. He does snag the spare key from the hook by the door and lock up, though.

“How much hot water am I in?” he asks Liam in the car.

Liam’s grim expression practically answers the question by itself. “With Lady Vivian? I’m thinking pretty hot.”

“Great,” Harry mutters. 

Lady Vivian is every bit as terrifying as her phone demeanour implied, her grey hair perfectly coiled on top of her head and a clipboard tucked firmly into her arms. Harry sits down before he’s told to, nervously glancing at all the people with serious faces around the table, then at his phone to check the time.

“Your phone is to be put on silent and out of sight,” Lady Vivian commands, sitting down directly across from Harry.

Harry swallows and complies. Hot water indeed.

-

It turns out that Nick’s night with the prince did not go as unnoticed as he would have liked. Both Fiona and Matt have been wearing smirks since he came in this morning and keep making little teasing comments. Thankfully, it’s a Monday, so no one is as on top of it as they could be, and Nick can just roll his eyes and wave them off.

It’s just about the time Ian comes in, and although Nick keeps checking his phone, he doesn’t have anything from Harry.

“Why have you got your phone out in the studio, Nicky?” Matt inquires into the mic while Fiona laughs in the background. “Are we boring you?”

“No, no,” Nick says easily, his eyes already rolling. It does take him a few moments longer than usual to respond with, “I’m just wondering when our little Ian will get here, that’s all!”

“Mhm,” Fiona says sagely, nodding her head. “Sure.”

“What, you don’t believe me?!” Nick cries, being over dramatic on purpose in hopes that he will be able to distract them. “I thought we were a team. I thought we had some _trust_ built up, here.” Just in time, he spots Ian in the Live Lounge and motions violently at him through the window. “There’s Ian now!” Nick crows, and as soon as Ian slips into the studio, Nick starts playing the Polly Pocket song. 

“Good morning, Ian!” Nick says after a rousing singalong. “Let’s have it, then, are you having a Polly day?” 

“Well, I started this morning by taking two dogs for a walk, and neither of them are mine, so… not really a Polly day.”

“Oh?” Fiona says. Nick will get her back for this. She’s staring at him while she asks, “Whose dogs were you walking?”

“Care to enlighten us?” Ian asks, raising an eyebrow at Nick. 

“Your girlfriend’s dog,” Nick says.

“And…” Ian prompts. 

“Kate Moss?” Nick says.

“Oh, please,” Matt says. “We all know it was your dog.”

“My girlfriend wants to know why Puppy stayed a whole extra day at ours,” Ian says. “You might want to do something about that.”

“Nah,” Nick says. “Can’t be bothered. She’s your dog now.” He hits play on the next song and fades down everyone’s mics before anyone can get another word in. 

“I’m going for a wee,” Nick says, jumping up and taking his phone with him. Everyone looks like they’re going to say something, but Nick doesn’t really want to hear it. 

It’s not that strange really that Harry hasn’t texted him. Maybe he’s gone to sleep. He’d just seemed pretty much awake this morning and not like he was going to go back to sleep. Nick’s just a little concerned that they haven’t worked out lunch plans. Maybe he should have pressed that more.

He finishes up in the toilet and decides before thinking too much to send Harry _we still on for lunch?_

 

It may be a bit clingy, but maybe being direct is the best call.

He rolls his shoulders back and goes back into the studio. Everyone seems to be working and the block of songs is coming to an end. He introduces Tina quickly for the news and fades down his mic.

“So why did you not come round for Puppy yet?” Ian asks without looking at him, clearly trying to pretend he’s not curious. “Not that it matters, we’re not actually all that bothered.” 

“Might have been busy.” Nick shrugs.

“Oh?” Ian says.

“Never know.” 

“Hey, Ian,” Matt says. Nick glares. “Have you checked The Mail Online yet?”

“No,” Ian says, already typing it into the address bar. “Ah.”

Despite his common sense telling him to stay away, Nick goes to peer over Ian’s shoulder. The main page is almost completely taken up by a photo of Nick and Harry leaving Funky Buddha on Saturday and the headline _‘London Party Boy DJ and Prince: A Couple??’_ in smaller text underneath, it asks, _Do the Queen and the Princess of Wales approve?_

Nick shakes his head. “Don’t they have other news? It’s Monday. That was Saturday.”

“No one is bigger news in the gossip world right now than Prince Harry,” Matt says. “Unfortunately.” 

“Unfortunately,” Nick agrees. He checks his phone again. Harry hasn’t texted him back. 

Nick hopes that this isn’t going to be an issue. 

-

Lady Vivian is exactly what her appearance would have you believe. The way her tight bun makes her hair look like it’s one touch away from peeling off her face reflects her attitude. 

Fifteen minutes into the meeting, Harry is completely in awe of her and more than a little afraid. He’s met a lot of people who are fully committed to making the royal family work as a cohesive unit and refuse to hear anything but their rules, but none of them hold a candle to Lady Vivian. She’s on another level. 

“We’re concerned about your image and how it reflects on your family as a whole,” Lady Vivian says. This is about the fifth time she’s said it. “Do you understand what we mean?”

“I do get the concept, yes,” Harry says, on the defensive. “I don’t know what you think I’m doing wrong, though.”

Lady Vivian looks like she might be exasperated if her facial expression ever bothered to change. “You’ve had a lot of negative exposure since you came out.”

Harry bristles, opening his mouth with the intent to inform her that that’s all bullshit anyway, but Lady Vivian fixes him with a stare.

“We expected this, of course,” she continues. “And it hardly matters what a few homophobic people think. We just need to be proactive now, and that includes making sure you’re seen as still representing this country in a positive manner and not hiding as though you’ve done something bad.”

“We also want to make sure other aspects of your public life don’t allow the press to discredit you or the royal family further,” one of the men sitting next to Lady Vivian says. 

Harry frowns. “What aspects of my public life?” 

Lady Vivian, at least, has the decency to look annoyed at her colleague. She sits up straighter, since apparently that’s possible, and answers, “You said it yourself on the radio, Harry. You shouldn’t bring a person into the public eye unless you mean to keep him or her there.” 

“You mean Nick,” Harry says after a long pause. It’s the only person he can think of this pertaining to.

“Your jaunt has been all over the press since Saturday when you went offline. If you had allowed us to know, maybe we would have been able to create some interference, but as it is… ”

“As it is?” 

“Do you mean to date Nicholas Grimshaw? He is known for being a party animal. Is that what you want your image to be?”

“He’s my _friend_ , and I don’t give a crap about my _image_. You won’t tell me not to hang out with him!” Harry says quite explosively. Everyone seems to be taken aback, including him. Lady Vivian is, as ever, stonefaced.

“Yet your image does reflect on both your mother and your grandmother. Would you want them to look bad?”

Harry frowns. Of course he bloody well doesn’t. “Don’t try to guilt trip me. Did they put you up to this?” 

“Your grandmother has put me in charge of the image of the royal family. You sir, are a very popular part of it.” Lady Vivian steeples her fingers together. “I am not trying to tell you how to live your life, Prince Harry, just suggesting what you could do better to protect your image. Or keep any _friends_ out of the picture. I just want you to see the _whole picture_.”

“What would you have me do, then?” Harry asks. 

“Pick a charity and support it. One that’s LGBT related, if you like. That and more formal public appearances will make everything just that much more favourable.” 

“Is that all?” Harry asks, suspicious of some sort of catch or ulterior motive. 

Lady Vivian smiles. It looks slightly wrong on her face. “Yes, that’s all.”

Harry takes a moment, not wanting to seem like he’s giving up, but he nods. “Alright, that’s fine. Have you got a list of potential charities?” 

“Of course,” Lady Vivian says, gesturing to one of the other ladies at the table, who hands a list over to Harry. The rest of the meeting flows smoothly—Harry picks a charity as his main focus and a few other ones to support mostly in name alone, and he listens while the professionals discuss the logistics. He answers a few questions about his schedule that he thinks they’re only asking him for show, and eventually they tell him he’s free to go. 

-

Nick holds out hope that Harry is just asleep until he gets back to his flat and finds it empty. 

There isn’t even a note. 

He wishes he could be surprised, but instead he’s just sad and a little offended. He had hoped (for what reason, he isn’t sure) that they would be more than a one night stand. He thought they’d had a good thing going. Or started, at least. 

Nick stands in his living room and stares around uselessly before deciding that if there isn’t a prince waiting for him, he should probably go get his dog. 

He takes his car to Aimee and Ian’s flat because he doesn’t want to deal with people more than he has to, and he can’t imagine dealing with Puppy and the press. He’s noticed a few photographers idling at the end of his road. But driving, also, tends to calm him down some, and he can’t explain the fury behind his eyes. Harry didn’t really promise him anything; it was a one night stand thing. Sure, Harry had said he wanted to discuss it, but perhaps that was just placating. Harry wouldn’t have been the first boy to do it.

( _But you wanted him to be different,_ his traitorous mind says.)

The drive to Aimee and Ian’s is too short, and he abruptly arrives at their flat. Ian was still at work when Nick left, but Aimee had said she’d be around. She answers after the first knock, the dogs barking in the background.

Puppy is excited to see him, almost vibrating in place, and Aimee gives him a big hug. “You okay?” she asks, eyes searching his. “Didn’t think you’d be coming by this early.”

“Not really,” he answers honestly, because she’d get it out of him anyway. “I don’t know what to think.”

 

“Well, have you talked about the situation with him?” she asks in her brisk American way.

“No. He said he’d be at my flat after work, so I tried to cut it short so I’d be home.”

“And he wasn’t?”

“Obviously not, or I don’t think I would be here.”

“You’re scaring me with how honest you’re being without alcohol. I had the wine at the ready.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for day drinking.”

“You? Not ready for day drinking?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening. I didn’t realise people were taking our photo,” Nick says softly. He will not cry over this. This isn’t something to cry about. 

Aimee looks at him sadly. “Well, of course they were,” she says, but she doesn’t say it like Nick’s stupid, which Nick appreciates. “It’s shitty that he left when he said he’d wait for you, though.”

Nick shrugs. “Think he might’ve been just, you know, saying.”

“Still shitty,” Aimee says decisively. “Have you called him?”

“Texted him,” Nick says, shaking his head. 

“Try calling,” Aimee commands. Nick knows better than to try to resist when she’s got that tone of voice. 

Nick dutifully takes out his phone and dials Harry’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up before it can beep and he’d have to say something. 

“See, why even bother?” Nick asks. He can tell he’s pouting a bit. He really is a little sad over this, no matter how much he wishes he weren’t.

“Well, you do want it to work, don’t you?” Aimee asks pointedly. 

Nick does, which is what makes this so scary and therefore hard. He nods.

“So call again and leave a message, okay? Put the ball firmly in his court. Then we can order in some lunch and start on this wine.”

Nick nods. That sounds sensible. He can be sensible for the next five minutes. He hits call on his phone and waits, listening to the standard message before it beeps. “Hey, Harry, it’s Nick. Just, um, I got home and you weren’t there, so I wanted to check in… No big deal, just I saw there’s been some press, and we should probably talk about that at the very least, and also, like… us, so. Give me a ring when you can. Bye.” He hangs up and stares forlornly down at his phone. “That sounded rubbish, didn’t it.”

“No, it was good,” Aimee says. “Ready for day drinking now?”

Nick nods. He really is. 

-

Harry blinks into the late afternoon sun. Everyone is on their way home, and the traffic seems to be horrible as he slides into a car that will take him wherever he wants. He wishes he could tell it to take him back to Nick’s flat, but now he doesn’t know if that’s welcome. He hasn’t quite had the guts to call him, or—well, he hasn’t even really looked at his phone yet.

Liam slides into the front seat with the driver. “How was the bollocking?”

“Pretty shitty,” Harry says as he picks at a hole in his jeans. 

“Where shall we head to?” Liam asks blandly.

“Back to the flat, I guess,” Harry says.

“You’re not going to go back to Nick’s?” There’s a hint of concern in Liam’s voice that Harry tries his best to ignore. 

“I didn’t tell him I was leaving.”

“Not even a note?” 

“I was hoping I could make it back before he did,” Harry says quietly. 

Liam nods understandingly, but his lips are set in a straight line. “Checked your phone?”

“Afraid to,” Harry admits. 

“Rip it like a plaster, mate,” Liam says. “Sooner is better than later.”

Harry sighs, knowing Liam is right, and liberates it from his pocket. He’s got a few missed texts, but only one is from Nick— _we still on for lunch?_ —followed up by a missed call from Nick’s number and a voicemail message. Harry ignores all the other notifications and presses voicemail. 

_“Hey, Harry, it’s Nick.”_ By the time the message is over, Harry wants to cry. Nick’s voice had sounded so different than it does in real life or even on the radio, at once familiar and guarded, and he can’t tell if Nick is angry or upset or just wants to get media things straight and then never speak to Harry again. He hopes to god it’s not the latter. Even anger would be better than that.

Harry breathes in audibly as he tries to keep his emotion in check. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Liam or the driver. When he looks back up, Liam is staring at him, “So?”

“He was just calling to check in. He was, uh, worried, since, I, y’know, wasn’t there.” Harry rubs at his eyes. 

“Well. That sucks. Call him back and tell him what happened. Make plans!” Liam says easily.

“It’s not that easy.”

“It should be. Just try,” Liam says sensibly. It’s not quite fair that the one sensible one of the group is the one Harry spends the most time with.

“Fine,” He mutters. He takes a few calming deep breaths before he scrolls down to Nick’s contact information and hits call.

It’s torture listening to the ring tone, and Harry finds himself wishing that it would go to voicemail. He’s too cowardly to really want to talk to Nick, not when he’s not sure what he’s got waiting for him on the other end. 

Finally it connects, and Nick’s voice tumbles down the line, loud and loose. “Your Highness!”

Harry thinks Nick may be drunk, and it makes him kind of wish he was too. “Hi, Nick.” He waits a breath and there is an awkward pause. He can hear Nick breathing on the other end. Harry takes a deep breath and tries to hold on to his courage, “I’m sorry I left without leaving a note. I was hoping I would get back to your flat before you did. I was called into a meeting, and I didn’t think it would take so long.”

 

“A meeting?” Nick asks, “What kind of meeting?”

Harry winces and wishes that wasn’t what Nick had decided to focus on. He doesn’t want him to ever know what Lady Vivian said about him. It’s not fair, and it isn’t nice, and so he fibs, just a bit. “My mother had me meet with her press secretary about what I would be doing this summer. Mum set it up and forgot to tell me when it was.”

He hopes he said it with enough credibility. He’s shit at lying typically, but Nick doesn’t know him really well, and Liam isn’t paying attention, so no one can call him on it.

“Oh,” Nick says and falls silent. Harry can hear someone in the background singing along to a song Harry can only faintly hear playing.. 

Harry sighs, “I was going to see if I could run by your flat, but it doesn’t seem like you’re there?”

“No, no—I’m at my friend Aimee’s tonight,” Nick says and doesn’t elaborate. Harry has heard stories of Aimee, like the rest of the Radio 1 audience.

“Oh. Okay,” Harry says, “Um… maybe we could go to dinner later this week?”

Nick laughs. Harry may just be hearing things, but he swears it’s slightly bitter. He slurs a bit when he says, “You gonna actually show up this time?” 

Harry winces. He knows he’s messed up. “Yes, and I think we should talk.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do?”

Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he ignores it. “Maybe Thursday?”

“Maybe, yeah, sure. I’ve got to go, your highness, something needs my attention.” Nick says and then there’s only dead air.

Harry is all alone. 

-

Harry and Nick text a bit the next couple of days, but their conversations are neither long nor particularly deep. Harry notices that he’s the one who starts them most of the time, but Wednesday morning Nick has sent Harry a particularly strange text message containing only emojis. Harry can’t even begin to parse what it means. 

_???_ He sends to Nick. He has his radio turned on to Nick’s show, so he knows he probably won’t get a response for a bit. He’s expecting Niall to show up soon. They’re meant to talk about Lady Vivian’s new plans. He will do what the lady wants, but he won’t give up Niall.

_if you were listening, you’d get it_ , Nick texts back, and Harry stares at it. He had been listening, but he doesn’t remember hearing them talk about it. He’ll have to listen back on iPlayer later. 

_fine :P_ he sends back. _I’m listening now._

Niall enters with no fanfare, save throwing a folder at Harry’s head. “Thanks for making me have to do even _more_ work, you idiot.”

“If you’re looking for someone to blame, Lady Vivian would probably be a better target,” Harry mutters. He leans down to pick up the folder from where it’s fallen to the floor. “What is this, the schematics for the next torture machine they’re going to subject me to?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is,” Niall says. He rolls his eyes. “No, dipshit, it’s your schedule for the next couple of days.” 

Harry flips it open and skims through the pages, then flips back to today. He has a lunch with someone whose name he vaguely recognises, so he figures he’ll know who they are once he sees them, and then a fitting for a new suit in the afternoon, which is kind of odd, considering he’d had one of those, like, yesterday. Sometimes Harry feels like he spends his entire life being prodded by pins. Shouldn’t the royal tailors, like, know his measurements by now? He expresses as much to Niall, who only stares at him, unimpressed. 

Harry has never won a staring contest with Niall, so he doesn’t try, instead flipping to Thursday in the folder. It looks like more of the same, except— “Niall,” Harry says slowly, “is this what I think it is?”

“I dunno, what do you think it is?” Niall asks. 

“I think it’s a gala I’m supposed to be at scheduled for the same time I told Nick I’d meet him for dinner. Didn’t I tell you I need Thursday evening free?”

Niall’s face falls. “I told her that.” He takes the folder from Harry and stares down at it. “There’s no way we can get you out of this one, though, mate. This is the Albert Kennedy Trust’s main event of the season.”

Harry puts his face in his hands. The Albert Kennedy Trust is the main charity he’d picked to support, and he genuinely wants to. He just didn’t know it was going to overlap with his Nick plans, which honestly take precedence over almost everything in his life at the moment. Of course, no one else is going to take that for an explanation. 

“Can you reschedule with Nick?” Niall is asking. “He’ll understand, right?”

“He was already pretty upset that I disappeared Monday,” Harry says. “But I guess this is a pretty good reason to have to take a raincheck?” He’s trying to convince himself now. 

“Yeah, it is,” Niall says encouragingly. 

Harry chews on his lip, “Are you sure we can’t get out of this?”

“No, mate, I”m afraid not.” Niall says.

“I could invite him to go with me?” Harry says thinking aloud.

“Um. Well. Do you want to do that? You said you guys hadn’t talked about what you were? And that you didn’t think you wanted to drag someone out until you were sure you were dating?” Niall says hesitantly.

“Also known as you’ve been told to keep me from doing that.”

“Maaaaybe a little bit.”

Harry sighs. “Well. I guess I have to see if he’ll take the apology and raincheck.”

“I bet he will, Haz. It’s not like it’s really your fault.” 

Harry nods and hopes that’s the case. Nick’s show ended while Niall and he were talking, so Harry takes a deep breath and thinks of the plaster metaphor as he dials Nick’s number. 

“Hey, Harry,” Nick answers cheerfully after a couple of rings, and Harry can’t help but think that makes it all the worse. “I’m about to go into a meeting, but we’ve got a bit.”

“Okay.” Harry bites his lip. “I’m sorry to be calling with bad news, but, well. Um. I have bad news.”

“How bad?” Nick asks. The drastic change in his tone from cheerful to serious and a bit wary hurts, and Harry hasn’t even told him yet.

“I’ve got to reschedule dinner. They want me to go to this charity gala tomorrow night, and I promised I would support this charity, and I really would rather be going to dinner with you, but, well. I can’t. Can we pick another time?” He says it all in a rush like that will make it easier. It doesn’t.

There is a pause, a significant one, but then Nick is back with a cheery voice, one that Harry can tell is fake. “Sure, Harry. Just let me know when you’re free, yeah? I’ve got to go, Matt’s motioning me into the meeting now.”

Yet again, Harry is left with only dead air. Things really aren’t going his way. 

“So, how’d that go?” asks Niall, the nosy bugger. 

“It could have gone better,” Harry says. “He says to let him know when I’m free.”

“Well, then it definitely could have gone worse!” Niall says cheerfully and starts talking about what Harry will need to do tomorrow at the gala.

Harry only half listens. The problem is that he isn’t sure it _could_ have gone worse. 

-

Thank God for Nick’s friends, he thinks to himself. Gillian had answered his plea of ice cream and bitch session by showing up with tubs of Ben and Jerry’s and some wine. She then proceeded to pour them both a glass and hand him a spoon. 

“I don’t know if he’s going to that gala for the Albert Kennedy Trust, but I don’t think there would be several other galas going on at the same _time_ ,” Nick whines. He’s not allowed himself to look at the internet, especially the tumblr tag for Prince Harry. 

“Probably not, no,” Gillian says. 

Nick pouts. He has a container of ice cream in his lap, he’s allowed to pout right now. “But I was _invited_ to that, and I said no because it’s a Thursday night and I have to get up at bleeding five in the morning.”

“Mhm,” Gillian says.

“And now Harry’s _there_ , and he was supposed to be spending the evening with _me_ , and I sound like I’m five years old but it’s really not fair, is it, Gells? Tell me it’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair,” Gillian says. 

“Of course it’s not!” Nick waves his spoon in the air. “Life is stupid. I quit.” He shoves a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth to punctuate his point.

“Yep,” Gillian says. 

Nick huffs and swallows his ice cream. “You’re useless.”

“I brought you ice cream,” Gillian says.

“…True.”

“Anyway, he’s obviously doing damage control. I doubt he’d pick going to a stuffy gala over hanging out with you.”

Nick doesn’t know what to do with that answer. There is a part of him that understands that; after all, Harry came on his show for damage control, but another part of him just wants to have a strop and a pout over it.

“Go back to being useless, I just want to whine.”

“Fine then,” Gillian says. “But I’m turning on the telly, and if I turn the volume up so I can’t hear you, no one can blame me.”

“It’s just I _donated_ to that auction instead of _going_ ,” Nick says with a pout.

“Well, then, maybe he’ll have a reason to text you,” Gells points out. It’s really annoying that she’s good at being sensible. 

“It wasn’t anything great. I asked the person in charge what they would want that I’d be interested in. I got some modern art piece.”

“Still, I bet you he’ll see your name and text you.”

“Just watch the telly, Gells.” Nick goes back to eating his ice cream. He doesn’t need to be sensible right now. 

-

There is a lot of pomp and circumstance with being a prince, and while Harry is used to it, that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He finds himself annoyed as he walks down the red carpet (it’s actually purple) of the event. The flashes hurt his eyes and the questions the reporters throw out are meant to shock rather than holding anything of value to the charity he’s trying to support. He’d probably say something nasty if he didn’t have Niall at his elbow. 

As galas go, though, Harry has to admit that this could be worse. It could be better, of course, in that he could be out with Nick instead, but it doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. He genuinely likes most of the people he chats to (minus insensitive reporters), and it helps that he cares about the cause. He’d much rather listen to what’s being done to help down on their luck LGBTQ kids than something he doesn’t know much about or feel a connection to at all. 

“I told you this wouldn’t be so bad,” Niall murmurs to him while they’re perusing the auction items.

Harry hums agreement. “I just wish Nick was here,” he says, pausing to look at a modern art piece. He leans in to see if the label has the artist name; it does, but it’s what’s right below it that catches his attention. “Hey, he donated this!” 

Niall leans over his shoulder to look. “Oh, cool.”

Harry tugs his phone out of his pocket to snap a quick picture, attaching it to a text to Nick and captioning it _You’re here in spirit!_

Nick doesn’t text back straight away. Harry frowns down at his phone but moves on. He doesn’t know if he should bid on Nick’s art piece. He really wants to, but it also feels like crossing some kind of line. 

Niall doesn’t let him linger long, and they move on. Amazingly, no one stops them as they continue to walk through the pieces on auction. Harry decides that he shouldn’t bid on Nick’s piece and instead picks a few other things to try for. 

They’ve just sat down for food and the actual auction to begin, when his phone finally buzzes. _So I am. having a good time?_

_Just bought a fruit arrangement for six times what its worth_ , Harry texts back. He hesitates for a moment, then adds, _Would be better if you were here._

The response is quick this time. _Alas, some of us have to work for a living. See you soon?_

Harry grins dumbly at his mobile. _I hope so :)_

Niall nudges him and waggles his eyebrows when Harry looks over. Harry shakes his head, but he can’t stop smiling. 

-

Harry and Nick continue to talk via text, but Harry can tell there’s distance between the two of them. He wishes that wasn’t the case, but can’t seem to figure out how to change it. His schedule is so busy, and it seems to always conflict with Nick’s. If Harry didn’t have more trust in Niall, he would swear his publicity office was doing it on purpose. 

“But you do trust Niall,” Zayn says while taking a sip of his beer. They’re sitting on the sideline at a polo match, and neither of them really care. Sports aren’t their thing if it’s not one of Louis’ games. Instead they’re just there to be seen as part of the royal family. 

“I know,” Harry sighs. “I just wish I could figure out why we can’t ever meet up! I mean, it’s a bit suspicious!”

“Do you think he could be doing it?” Zayn asks casually. 

“I don’t want to even think about that, Zayn,” Harry whines. “If he’s doing it on purpose, then he’s mad at me, and I don’t know if I can handle that right now.”

“So you’re going to ignore it?”

“Yes. Probably,” Harry says with a sigh. “Stop being rational. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side, Haz.” Zayn reaches up and runs his fingers through the locks at the back of Harry’s head. “I just think you should see the whole picture.”

Harry would respond, but instead his phone buzzes. Harry can’t help the smile he feels spread over his face. He magnanimously ignores how Zayn snorts at him in amusement. _hows being royal? enjoying the polo match?_

_Not really_ , Harry texts back. _Always good to see Zayn tho. how are you?_

_Same old, same old_ , Nick responds. 

Harry chews on his lip before texting back, _do you like polo?_

_i’ve never seen it._ Nick texts back. _why?_ comes the second response a few moments later.

_was just thinking you could have come with us._ Harry says, biting his lip as he types. Nick doesn’t respond right away, and it chews at Harry’s gut. Should he not have said anything? He does wish Nick could be here with him. 

_nah, I’m not a royal_ finally comes in from Nick, causing Harry to pout. 

“What’s got you in a huff?” Zayn asks, always perceptive.

“Nick’s being dumb,” Harry responds.

_that doesn’t matter._ he texts back to Nick. Nick is quiet again for long enough that Harry starts nervously taking pictures with his phone so that he can’t stare at the text screen. Then he ruins it by texting one of the pictures to Nick with the caption _there’s nothing particularly royal about this, I think._

_there’s a lot royal about you_ , Nick says finally. Harry can’t dispute that, and he can’t deny that Nick has been getting increasingly less warm in his texts the more times Harry has to turn down actual face-to-face hangouts. 

_I’m sorry, I know it’s a pain_ , he texts back. _I’ll harass Niall about it some more, see if I can get some free time that matches up with yours._

Nick doesn’t respond until the game is nearly over, and then the response only says _Let me know when you do_. Harry’s heart feels heavy in his chest.

“I don’t know what to do,” Harry mumbles, mostly to himself.

Zayn puts his arm around Harry’s shoulder and squeezes him in a sideways hug. “I know,” he says. 

-

Nick is in the park walking Puppy when his mobile starts vibrating in his pocket. He fumbles a bit in his haste to get it out before it goes to voicemail, and he doesn’t have the time to pause and think about whether he actually wants to answer a call from Harry before he’s answering it.

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” Harry says, slow and lovely. “Is this a bad time? You sound out of breath.”

“No, now is fine,” Nick says. “I’m just walking Puppy.” 

“Oh, that sounds great. I’m in the car on the way from uni to dinner with somebody whom I’m sure is very important.” He sighs audibly. “Niall wanted to brief me on the way over, but I wanted to call you, so.” 

Nick swaps Puppy’s lead and his mobile from one hand to the other. “Not worried about committing social faux pas by not knowing their names?” 

“In this moment? Not particularly.” 

“Naughty royal,” Nick says, only slightly ironically. There’s a part of him that preens with the knowledge that Harry wanted to pay attention to Nick right now, even though the professional side of him cringes. Harry really should know the names of who he’s meeting with. But he still can’t shake his annoyance with Harry—he doesn’t like being ignored, and a quick phone call between events being their only contact in days feels a lot like being ignored. Nick wants to be the center of attention, not just an afterthought, an excuse for Harry to get out of his princely duties. He thinks he should be afforded that much, especially when he likes someone and he’s almost positive they like him back. 

“That’s me—the naughty one,” Harry laughs down the line. “My sister is the good one. Good thing she’s the one who is going to inherit the throne.”

“Does she have as many duties as you?” Nick finds himself asking without meaning to. If he wasn’t holding Puppy’s lead, he would face palm, because really, Grimmy? Way to be obvious.

“She has more.” Harry sighs. “Though I seem to have picked up more events than I could want. It’s a wonder I even have time to do my uni work.” Nick can hear a snort in the background and some mumbling. “Niall says I shouldn’t push it; he could find even more for me.”

“Well, let’s not make that happen. I would like to see you occasionally,” Nick’s traitor mouth says. Really, he needs a better filter. 

“I would, too,” Harry says quickly, which is great, since it doesn’t leave Nick stewing in embarrassment, but really it would be better if it could happen sometime soon. 

The silence stretches, and Nick is about to let his mouth say something else so it would be less awkward, but Harry beats him to it. “We could try lunch sometime this week? A late one? I know you get busy after the show sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Nick says even as his heart sinks. He knows it’s not going to happen with no specifics. “We can try that.”

“Cool. I’ve got to go, Nick, I’m so sorry. Niall is insisting he prep me now.” Harry’s voice is distant already, like he’s already pulling away.

“Go on, your royal highness. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Nick.”

-

Harry takes a sip of his champagne and scans the crowd in search of a person with a snack tray. There’s no one near him, which is profoundly disappointing. 

Being here in general is profoundly disappointing. He’s been spending so much time at fancy events he’s having trouble even keeping them straight in his head. On the bright side, at least his friends are at this one. 

“I want to go home,” he mutters to Louis. “Actually, no, I want to go to Nick’s and apologise and then lie down and sleep for a million years.”

Louis sighs and drains his glass. “I have _not_ had enough alcohol to deal with you,” he says. “Where’d Zayn go?”

Harry shrugs. “I dunno.” He sighs, long and drawn out, and tries to slump into Louis. 

“Oh no, no,” Louis says, pushing him off. “You stay upright. God, you’re miserable.”

“I _am_ ,” Harry whines. “I’m _so_ miserable.” Louis gives him a look and discards his empty glass on a passing tray and picks up a new one. He sips at it, scrutinising Harry over the top of the glass. Harry frowns. “What?”

“Do you think you can get an evening off this week?” Louis asks.

“No,” Harry says immediately. “Niall will never let me.”

Louis looks doubtful. “I don’t know, man, if you’ve annoyed me this much in the short amount of time we’ve been together, Niall must be losing it by now. I think he’d give you a night off. Especially a night dedicated to stress relief.”

Harry shrugs, then the words sink in and he perks up. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Louis says. “What do you say, gathering at yours? Tell Nick to bring some of his friends, invite a bunch of yours, and we can all mingle and take your mind off things.” 

“That sounds nice,” Harry admits. He can’t very well deny the appeal of a night where he won’t have to wear a suit and Nick will be there. “I’ll have to see when Nick is free, though.”

“Oh, yeah, schedule it around him,” Louis agrees. “I don’t want to deal with you if he isn’t there.” 

“Heyyyy,” Harry says, but he’s mostly joking. “Thanks, Lou. If I can make this happen I think it’ll be really good.” 

“Fabulous,” Louis agrees. He slings an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Now what do you say we go and find Zayn and some of those little salty things? Not necessarily in that order.”

“Lead the way,” Harry agrees.

-

Nick kind of hates Aimee and Daisy and Alexa and Pixie. They're his dearest friends and they're _supposed_ to be protecting him and on his side, but instead they're chatting excitedly about being invited to a party by the prince. 

"It would only be better if it was at Kensington," Alexa drawls, only managing to make it half through the sentence before collapsing in giggles. 

"What would we wear then?" Pixie says. 

"Whatever we want," Daisy says pointedly. Nick wishes he could be more like her, so comfortable in her own skin. 

"I would be more impressed if it was at the palace," Aimee says with a bit of an edge. Even though her tone is more like Nick wants, it still rubs him a bit wrong.

"It'll be a good time," he says. "Hopefully."

"Do you know who will be there?" Alexa asks. 

"He said it would be a small gathering? So no idea, really," Nick answers. 

Nick's mobile plays a jaunty ringtone; the car is there and it's time to go. He ushers the girls out his door and into the car. 

The car takes them to Harry's building, the one the media doesn't know about. It's a well-to-do building, but the girls are right. He may have been more impressed with the palace, but he likes knowing what’s happening and being in control. He might not have said yes if it was in the palace. 

The doorman lets them into the building, and they go up to the flat. Harry greets them at the door, beaming, and ushers them inside. Nick introduces all of the girls and watches while Harry gives them all polite kisses on the cheek and asks how they’re doing. Harry is still amiably chatting when Nick gets dragged away by Niall, who reintroduces him to the other boys and then starts up a conversation that Nick only half participates in.

Harry talks to everybody, it seems—everybody except Nick. Eventually the entire group is talking, different conversation strings overlapping and copious laughter filling the room, and that’s somehow even worse. Nick usually loves a good crowd, God knows enough of his dates have complained that he ignored them in favour of his friends, but this one tastes sour in his mouth. He can’t help but wonder why, if Harry had time to organize this, he didn’t have time for something more… date-like. Nick feels like a cad just thinking it, but, well. Sometimes he’s selfish. 

The party is over all too soon, Harry warmly saying goodbye to everybody much the same as he’d greeted them. Nick feels as though he blinked and the whole party happened. He hangs back, hoping to get a private word in with Harry, despite not knowing what he’s going to say. Daisy looks askance at him, the last to leave. Harry is looking at Nick, biting his lip nervously, and Nick waves Daisy away. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah, babe?” 

Daisy nods and lets the door shut behind her, and it’s just Nick and Harry.

“So,” Nick says.

“So,” Harry repeats, “it’s been lovely to see you.”

Nick steps closer to him and takes his hand. “I feel like we didn’t, really.”

Harry breathes a heavy sigh of relief. “God, me too. It was Louis’ idea, I should’ve known it was awful.” 

Nick laughs shortly and lets his forehead rest against Harry’s. The silence around them is such a welcome reprieve for once. Harry’s eyes flutter shut, and Nick lets himself run his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone almost reverently. Harry presses his cheek closer to Nick’s hand, and Nick cups his face, tilting it up slightly so they can kiss. 

It’s every bit as wonderful as Nick remembers, and then Nick’s mobile fucking _rings_.

“Fuck,” Nick says. He has to let go of Harry’s hand in order to pull it out of his pocket and see Sadie’s name on the display. He frowns. “She wouldn’t call unless it was important, sorry.”

“No, that’s okay,” Harry says as Nick swipes to answer. He looks worried, even, and Nick wishes he would do _something_ that wasn’t so bloody endearing for once. 

“Nick, thank God you picked up,” Sadie says. She sounds flustered, and Nick is instantly even more worried. “Are you terribly busy at the moment? It’s just that Rudy is ill, and we could use some supplies, and he’s been asking after you a bit, and I…”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Nick says soothingly. “Of course I’m not busy, love” —he meets Harry’s eyes apologetically as he says it— “not for you. What is it you need, I’ll pick it up on my way over.”

“Oh, Grimmy, you’re an angel,” Sadie says. Nick listens while she tells him what to bring and tells her to hang tight, sending kisses through the phone before hanging up.

“My godson’s sick,” Nick says. “That was his mum.”

“Oh!” Harry says, looking even more worried than before. “Is it… something awful?”

Nick almost laughs. “Just a stomach bug,” Nick reassures him. “But Sadie’s awfully stressed, so I’d better…” He gestures at the door. 

Harry hesitates a moment, and Nick waits, almost holding his breath, to see if Harry will ask him to stay, instead, or to come back as soon as he can. Nick thinks that he would, probably, he’d promised to bring supplies, but he hadn’t said how long he would stay. He could duck out easily, Sadie would understand.

Harry doesn’t, though, just nods resolutely and says, “Yeah, go, go. I’ll ring you.” 

Something bursts a little inside of Nick. He’s not sure whether he wants to cry because he feels like he’s been dismissed or because Harry seems so genuinely concerned. “See you,” Nick says, hoping that’s actually true, and hugs Harry goodbye. 

His heart feels like a rock in his chest even by the time he gets to Sadie’s. 

-

“You’re an idiot, Hazza,” Niall tells him over the phone. “If you were gonna have a strop over it, why didn’t you ask him to stay?”

“I couldn’t very well ask him to stay when it was his godson ringing for him, could I?” Harry whines. “That’d be an awful thing to do.”

“Well, you could have told him you wanted to see him soon,” Niall says. “What’s the point of clearing your schedule if you’re not going to see him in your time off?”

“Stop making sense, Niall. I just wanna whine,” Harry says.

“Ring Louis then.”

“He’d just tell me the same thing,” Harry says. “I’m just worried Nick is being distant with me on purpose? Like, I know nothing has really worked out, but like, I’m _trying_?”

“Well. Maybe he’s just disappointed that it’s not working?” Niall says. “If he does care about it—which it seems like he does—maybe he wants to see you as much as you want to see him?”

“Maybe. It just feels weird.” 

“I mean, you could try and talk to him, Harry.”

“Maybe.”

-

Harry doesn’t say anything to Nick. He just can’t work out a way to mention it. They keep making plans that fall through, so Harry gives up on that and starts just phoning or swinging by whenever he’s free. Often Nick isn’t, and the few times that he is, whatever they do just gets to be awkward. There’s almost no mention of the fact that they’ve kissed and had sex, much less the suggestion that they might be dating. Harry wants to bring it up and find out what’s going on, or at least what Nick thinks is going on, but everytime he tries he clams up instead. More and more he thinks that Nick probably just views them as casual acquaintances, the kind of person you chat with for a few moments and then move on from, having already been there, done that. Harry can’t blame him. 

He also can’t let him go. He decides that he’s going to make one last-ditch effort—he’ll meet Nick at Broadcasting House after the show and ask Nick to go to lunch, and this time he’ll stop being an idiot and just ask Nick if he wants a relationship or not. It’s a pretty foolproof plan, in Harry’s opinion.

Unfortunately, Harry didn’t clear the plan with anyone else.

He’s waiting for Nick in the corridor by the lifts, leaning casually against the wall and doing his best to not be in the way. He straightens up when he sees Nick coming, and Nick stops dead when he spots him. 

“Hey,” Harry says with a little wave. He feels awkward. 

“Harry,” Nick says, “hi?”

Harry shoves his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch?” 

“Oh,” Nick says. He winces. “I—well, I’ve actually got meetings all day. Booked solid. Was just going to run down to the canteen for food right now, actually. You could… come with me if you want?” 

It feels like a brush off. Harry is suddenly completely, utterly done with all these quick dalliances. He wants something better, and if he can’t have it, then he wants nothing at all. “No,” he says, “I don’t think I will.” 

Nick shrugs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Harry seethes. “Another time?” Nick asks.

Harry shakes his head. “I don’t think another time will work, either. In fact, don’t worry about it. I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“Harry, I—” 

“Don’t even try!” Harry cuts him off. “You certainly haven’t been. Honestly, I think this is for the best. I won’t have to make up for you being bad for my image anymore, and you won’t have to deal with me always showing up unannounced.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play games with me!” Harry says. He’s aware that he’s shouting now, and that people are looking at him, but he can’t stop himself. “I’ll just see myself out of your life, then!” 

He turns to go. “Harry,” Nick says again. This time he reaches out and grabs Harry’s wrist, pulling him back a little. Harry wrenches his arm away. “Harry, listen.”

“I’m going,” Harry spits, and then, just like that, he’s stomping into the lift and slamming his hand down on the door close button. He watches the doors close on Nick’s curiously blank stare, and when all he can see is his reflection, he punches the wall of the lift.

His hand burns, but he can hardly feel it past the pain in his chest.

-

Nick manages to hold it together. He doesn’t know how, but he ignores Matt, Fiona and Ian’s curious stares and pointed comments. He ignores it all. He does his job. 

When he goes home, he lets Puppy out into the garden for a wee and sits on the couch and stares into space.

He doesn’t really understand what happened today. All the sudden, Harry (heir to the bloody _throne_ ) was waiting for him after his show without any warning. And then he got mad at Nick and said something about his image? Nick’s head is still reeling hours later, and he doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He’s been rendered speechless. 

What does he do?

Somehow, one way or another, he ended up with Niall’s number in his phone. He remembers this suddenly, and it’s a race to get his phone out of his pocket. _Harry said something about me being bad for his image?? Do you know what’s that about??_

The reply is almost instantaneous. _the wankers at st james aren’t super fond of you. h has been tryin to make up for it_

Oh. _Oh_. Nick finally gets it. Well, kind of. He doesn’t like it, but all of the sudden, he understands Harry being as busy as he has been wasn’t avoidance; he’d been trying to show how much Nick meant to him.

Nick feels like an idiot.

It takes him a few moments to breathe in deep and find the strength to text Harry. _I’m sorry I was busy today and have been busy lately. I have a life, and I won’t apologise for it. But you’re very important to me and I want this to work, so I’m willing to try if you are?_

Nick puts his phone down and bites his nails. He hopes Harry responds. A part of him would understand if Harry didn’t, but he really, really wants him to. 

Puppy barks from outside, and Nick goes to let her in. When he gets back there’s a message from Harry waiting for him. 

_I really want to try Nick._ Nick lets out a sigh of relief. He wants to try too.

_me too_ He sends back.

_when are you free?_

_tomorrow after the show?_

_lunch at my flat?_

_yeah that’d be good_

_good_

Nick can’t help but smile.

-

When Nick shows up at work the next morning, Harry is sitting right inside with a box of donuts and some cups of coffee. Nick rubs his eyes like he’s still asleep, but when he opens them Harry is still there, looking sheepish.

“What are you doing here?” Nick asks. “I thought we were meeting after?”

Harry presses a kiss to his cheek, and Nick feels himself blushing. “I wanted to apologise for having a strop yesterday. And I want your team to like me, not hate me for yelling at you.”

‘They wouldn’t hold that against you,” Nick says, even though they would. Harry gives him a doubtful look, and he relents. “Okay, donuts and coffee will definitely help your case.”

Harry smiles. “Good.” 

The team accept his offering with tentative smiles and questioning looks at Nick. Nick just shrugs at them; he doesn’t want to explain anything until it’s for sure. Harry hides in the corner of the live lounge for the duration of the show. Nick goes to check on him a couple times, but he mostly seems content on his mobile, and Nick is doing his best to not allow himself to be distracted.

He’s glad when the show’s over, though. Harry takes his hand in the lift down, just for a moment, and then he squeezes and lets go. Nick feels like he’s about to take flight. Nick is the one to reach for Harry’s hand in the car, and they stay holding hands until they get to Harry’s flat. 

“It’s nothing special,” Harry says when they’re once again in a lift. “Lunch, I mean.”

Nick shrugs and smiles at him. “Doesn’t need to be special, really,” he says, because it doesn’t. Harry smiles back. 

Harry really hadn’t been kidding about nothing special—when they get in there are bags of takeaway Chinese food sitting on his kitchen counter. Other than the fact that it had clearly been ordered and delivered precisely on time for their arrival, it’s entirely ordinary. Nick claims a box of lo mein for himself and settles in on the sofa when Harry gestures for him to sit. Harry sits on the other end, feet up and stretched in front of him so that he’s prodding Nick in the thigh with his toes. Nick makes a face at him, and Harry smirks. 

Neither of them say anything for the first few minutes. The silence doesn’t start out awkward, but it’s certainly getting there when Harry clears his throat and says, “I—um.” He stops, looking unsure. Nick waits patiently. “I’m really sorry about what I said yesterday,” Harry says finally. “Honestly, it was out of line. I was stressed and frustrated, but that’s no excuse. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you,” Nick says immediately. The look on Harry’s face is so earnest that he can’t not. “I mean, it was awful, I’m not going to lie, but I understand now.” He pauses and eats another forkful of noodles, then adds, “Why didn’t you tell me that you were told I was bad for your image?”

Harry turns red. “I didn’t—I mean, that’s a terrible thing to tell someone. I don’t think you’re bad for me. I think you’re perfect.” He looks down into his takeaway container, clearly avoiding eye contact.

Nick smiles despite himself. “Hush now,” he says. “Anyway, if we’re going to take this somewhere serious—are we taking this somewhere serious?” He half can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. All this talk of _seriousness_ should be putting him off his food. 

Harry nods, his eyes searching Nick. He looks nervous, Nick thinks. “I want to,” Harry says. 

“Okay,” Nick says. “Me too. So you’re going to need to tell me things like what your publicists say about me. I promise I’ll tell you what mine say, too, though I can’t imagine they’ll say anything bad.”

Harry laughs a bit at that. “Okay.”

“I can help, you know?” Nick says. “I really—you need to know that you’re not alone in this. Two people in a relationship and all that, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “I’m sorry.”

Nick shakes his head firmly. “Past apologies now,” he says. 

“Sorry, you’re right. We’ll just focus on—working together on ourselves in the future. We’re both busy, we know that painfully well at this point, but… I think we can do it. If we try.” 

Nick smiles. “If we try,” he agrees. 

-

Harry ends up staying the night and has to take a car back across town to his flat where he has plans to meet Niall. He doesn’t regret it though, since he can ask the driver to turn the radio to the breakfast show. He isn’t listening very well, at first, just happy to hear Nick’s voice, but then he hears something that makes him perk up.

“So, you had someone famous visit you yesterday.” Finchy says, and Harry’s heart starts beating faster. 

Nick makes a loud noncommittal humming noise. That makes sense—while they’re definitely trying out this relationship, they didn’t really talk about how public they would be with it. 

“And the day before.”

“Get to the point, Fincham, you’re being a bore.” 

“I’m just saying, are we going to see your mysterious famous visitor whom I shall not name again?” 

Harry finds himself holding his breath. “Yeah, probably,” Nick says, and Harry can hear his grin in his words.

The sounds that come from the rest of the studio onto the radio waves are triumphant. Harry smiles to himself. 

-

Niall is sitting in his living room when Harry arrives home. He’s scrolling through his phone—probably Twitter—and doesn’t look up. Harry laughs quietly to himself and goes to make tea for the both of them. “If you’re going to yell at me, you should do it now.”

“Why would I yell at you?”

“What happened to your perfectly crafted press plan? You know I’m going to tell you to fuck off.” He hands the tea over to Niall.

“You’ve forgotten it wasn’t exactly all my idea. I’ve learned by now that you’ll do what you want, and I just have to clean up after you. Figuratively and literally.” Niall says it joyfully, as if it was a foregone conclusion.

Harry sticks his tongue out.

“However, we do get to go make an appearance at St. James’ that you’ve seem to forgotten about today.” Harry groans loudly. 

Niall ushers him back out of the flat and into the waiting car. 

They sit in silence for a bit, before Harry says, “We’re going to try for real this time.”

Niall rolls his eyes at him. “I’m glad. It was time you numbskulls communicated. “ 

When they get to the palace they’re ushered into the room to see Lady Vivian. Her hair is still pulled back into a tight bun, and her mouth is pulled down into a frown. Harry wonders if her face sticks like that and then feels bad about it. “Good morning—or should I say afternoon, your majesty.” 

“Morning works well enough,” Harry says as he sits down. “Shall we get this over with?”

“I suppose we shall,” Lady Vivian says. She shuffles the papers in front of her, and Harry waits patiently, an expectant eyebrow raised. “It’s about your outburst at the BBC the other day.”

Harry doesn’t blink; he’s far past the point in his life that he’d be surprised that she knows. “What about it?”

“Well, frankly, what were you thinking?” Lady Vivian asks sharply. “This is the age of the camera phone, what if someone had filmed that?”

“Did someone?” Harry asks, curious. He hadn’t seen anyone filming, but then, he hadn’t seen much of anything at the time. 

“Not as far as we know,” Lady Vivian admits. “But it’s a very real possibility. A few people tweeted about it—no one with too many followers and not too many details before we were able to shut that down, thankfully, but the fact remains that it’s out there.”

Harry shrugs. There really isn’t anything he can do about that at this point. 

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Lady Vivian asks when Harry doesn’t reply.

“No,” Harry says. “I know it wasn’t clever, but I wasn’t thinking about publicity at the time, I’m sorry to say. I was thinking about my life, which I am allowed to do, correct? I’m allowed to have emotions?” 

“You are, of course,” Lady Vivian says. “But—”

“No,” Harry interrupts. “I don’t think there will be any buts to that statement. And while we’re at it, I don’t think there will be anymore attempts to make up for my association with Nick Grimshaw. I’m willing to continue with my current commitments and charity work, but I refuse to continue to be so massively overworked.” He takes a deep breath. “And I want to release a statement that I’m dating him, possibly in conjunction with his publicist, and definitely with his approval. Don’t try to dissuade me, it will only end poorly for all of us.”

Lady Vivian stares at him; she looks genuinely shaken, albeit only the slightest bit. Harry can’t bring himself to feel sorry at all. Next to him, Niall is grinning from ear to ear. “You heard the man,” Niall says, and Harry can tell he’s barely keeping himself from laughing. “I think he’s done here, wouldn’t you say? I’ll stick around and we can work on this.”

“I… yes,” Lady Vivian says. “That will be fine. You’re free to go, Prince Harry. We’ll email you.” 

“Thank you,” Harry says, standing to go. Niall stands as well and pulls Harry into a hug before Harry can do anything about it. 

“Great job,” Niall whispers into his ear. “Great fuckin’ job.” He pats Harry on the shoulder as he pulls back. 

“Thanks,” Harry says. There’s a spring in his step as he’s leaving the room, and he abruptly realises that he can’t stop smiling. He can’t imagine ever trying to.

-

When Nick walks out of the BBC, Harry is leaning against a black car. There’s a driver and another black car behind him and photographers swarming, but all Nick can see is Harry’s wide, beautiful smile. 

“Hi,” Nick says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders.

“Hi, Nick Grimshaw,” Harry says and presses a kiss to Nick’s cheek. It’s barely a peck, but it makes Nick’s heart burst. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” Nick says, laughing.

“Too long,” Harry says. He squeezes Nick and then steps back. He doesn’t let go of Nick’s hand. “Do you want to go for an early lunch?”

“Sure,” Nick says. He figures the meeting with the publicity people went alright, then. He’s sure Harry will tell him all about it. Right now, though—right now it’s enough to just get in the car and sit silently next to Harry, fingers linked together and a world of potential waiting for them. 

 

 

**_Future Prince Grimmy? Britain’s Favourite New Couple Opens Up!_ **

It’s been two years since Prince Harry of Wales was pictured snogging an unknown man in front of a pub in Soho and subsequently came out as bisexual. In that time, Harry, now 21, has put the wild party life behind him in favour of a life chock full of charity events, university lectures, and royal appearances. He’s even settled down—with none other than BBC Radio 1 breakfast show host Nick Grimshaw, 30, the very same man whom Harry personally selected to interview him for his big announcement. We sat down with the two lovebirds at Kensington Palace to get the scoop on the rocky road to love and their plans for the future.

**_People_ Magazine: Hi! How are you?**

_Nick:_ Hiya! I’m alright.

_Harry:_ I’m alright. You?

**PM: I’m alright as well! I’ve only got a bit of time, so please don’t mind me jumping in straight away.**

_Harry:_ No problem. Go ahead.

**PM: Prince Harry, it’s been two years since you were seen kissing a bloke. How have you changed? Do you feel any different?**

_Harry:_ I don’t think I’ve changed too much! [ _laughs_ ] Of course I’ve grown up a bit, and I feel a lot more free to be myself. I even feel like a bit of a role model, which is pretty new for me. It’s a good feeling, though. In retrospect, I’m pretty glad that drunken mistake happened. It wasn’t graceful or anything, but hey—I’ve never been known for being graceful.

_Nick:_ That’s for sure! 

**PM: Nick, what advice did you give him coming out? Anything you shared off air?**

_Nick:_ Oh, I didn’t really give him advice. He was very composed, he didn’t need my help.

_Harry:_ He quoted Dr Seuss.

**PM: Dr Seuss?**

_Harry:_ [ _nods_ ] “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.” And he held my hand. That calmed my nerves a lot.

_Nick:_ [ _quietly, reaching for Harry’s hand_ ] Oh, stop it.

**PM: Aw, that’s adorable. And it brings us to the next question: was it love at first sight?**

_Nick:_ Absolutely not. Have you seen his face? Ugly.

_Harry:_ Heyyyyyyy. I was going to say it was love _before_ first sight, but not anymore. 

_Nick:_ I’m kidding, love. Your face is lovely. And I don’t know about love at first sight, but I felt like we had a connection right away. 

_Harry:_ Yeah, I agree. We definitely had to work at our relationship, we still do, but that first spark was unmistakable. 

**PM: Do the parents approve? Does the Queen approve?**

_Nick:_ Oh man, telling my parents was quite the affair! I forgot, actually, and got a very angry phone call when it hit the press. [ _puts on a deeper tone_ ] “Nick, have you read what these tabs are saying about you and the prince? Where’d they get that idea?” I had to assure my dad that it was actually true! I think they’re still a bit confused, to be honest, but Harry’s charmed the pants off them. My mum was in a panic, knowing he was coming for tea the first time, all flustered about the lettuce being limp or something, and Harry just swanned in and settled her down right away. 

_Harry:_ It was easy, they’re lovely people. Besides, Nick did just as good a job of charming Granny! She wants him at every event now, says he makes her laugh. Same with my mum and Gemma. 

**PM: Have you seen the private apartments of Buckingham Palace?**

_Both:_ [ _stilted laughter_ ]

_Harry_ : Well, yes. Granny spends most of her time in her private apartments these days as my mum and Gemma take on more royal duties. We both visit her quite frequently.

**PM: Okay, now for what all the royal fanatics are hoping to know. When’s the wedding?**

_Nick:_ Not yet!

_Harry:_ I’m focusing on graduating from uni right now, and Nick’s busy with his job. We’re still settling into what this relationship means for us, and we’re willing to take it slow if that means we can better stick it out and make it work. 

**PM: Is it that difficult? Do you feel like the extra media attention puts a lot of strain on your relationship?**

_Nick:_ It’s been a bit of an adjustment, sure, but both of us were already used to attention from the media before this ever started. It can be a hassle to try to keep our privacy intact, but [ _shrugs_ ] we’re pretty good at it. 

_Harry:_ We’ve had our struggles, of course. It was touch and go there for awhile, with our busy schedules clashing, but we managed to work through it and come out stronger. The benefits of being together far outweigh any negatives. 

**PM: Anything for love, right?**

_Harry:_ [ _shares a smile with Nick_ ] Something like that.


End file.
